His Path
by The Immortal Scribe
Summary: Life was as mundane as possible for Eragon until that fateful day when he encountered the dragon egg, now his sister is a dragon rider and he is the vassal of the mad king. Tutored by Galbatorix in magic and warfare, Eragon must serve the empire. Will he be able to find his own path? And what is this elven rider doing in Galbatorix's court? EragonxArya; Powerful Eragon
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

* * *

Margaret sighed peacefully as she looked out of the window at the first snow of this year. Things had been good so far. It had rained well and the farmers had a bumper crop, the price for vegetables and meat had dropped and the king had lowered the taxes.

It seemed he was happy, then of course, why wouldn't he be? Only 6 months ago the whole of Urubaen had witnessed that great monstrosity flying towards the king's palace in the night sky. Rumours were that it was a dragon with an elf for a rider. Margaret scoffed mentally, didn't they know that the last of the dragon riders had perished a century ago?

Many swore that they had seen the dragon and the elf, and gladly described them much to the awe of the children. In fact, it was currently the only topic that people were fond of discussing. The dragon and it's rider were said to extremely loyal to the king and were rarely seen. Most of the population of Urubaen only knew of them by the stories of a few.

Margaret was woken from her thoughts by a knock on her door. She turned to see Rose, a girl of 8, standing at the doorway. " The dinner is prepared Ms. Margaret, all of us are waiting for you. Billy is anxious to begin supper", said Rose. Margaret smiled, "I will be right there.", she replied. Rose nodded happily and walked downstairs.

Margaret was the Matron of an orphanage in Urubaen and had been working in it for the last 17 years, she herself had seen 42 winters now. They had a small orphanage with little facilities but they were happy. She had 7 other women who helped her run this orphanage and fortunately had only 14 children to take care of. They were like a big family. Margaret smiled at the thought as she climbed down the stairs to their dining table. All the children were eagerly waiting for her, they would have supper together and after that she would read to them a story of princes and princesses, it was their routine.

Just as she was about to sit down on her chair at the head of the table, a knock was heard on their door. Brenda, one of her assistants, hurried towards it. Some muttering was heard, and Brenda came back to the dining area and said, " Ms. Margaret, someone is here to meet you." Margaret frowned, she stood up and walked towards the main door with Brenda behind her. At the doorway stood a man with something wrapped in a white blanket in his arms.

Margaret, guessing correctly, asked, "Is it your child?"

The man shook his head " No, it isn't."

Margaret took in the man's appearance, he wore ankle-high leather shoes, a light green tunic with coarse brown pants with a belt on which hung a knife. So a hunter then.

"Where did you find him?" Margaret asked.

"About two months ago I was hunting in the Spine and found this little fellow crying his eyes out by a stream. I picked him up and called for anyone nearby but there was no one. So I took him along with me, I was planning on traveling to Urubaen so I thought to give this fellow to you.", the man answered and held out the swaddling baby to her.

Margaret took the baby in her arms and cooed at him. "Did you name him?," she asked.

"Aye, his name is Eragon.", the hunter replied.

"What does it mean?", Margaret frowned, she hadn't heard the name before.

The hunter shrugged " I don't know, you wouldn't believe it, but when I picked him up the trees whispered Eragon." Margaret decided that the man wasn't completely in his senses, after all she could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Thank You", she politely nodded at the man.

"Take good care of him, he's a funny one.", the hunter smiled and walked off.

"What do we call him?", questioned Brenda. " _Eragon_ ", whispered Margaret, looking down at his big brown eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hi, this is my first ever fanfiction story. I have been on this site for the past 2 years and finally decided to post my own story xD. I hope you enjoy it. Please review.**

 **DISCLAIMER: The only thing I own is my imagination.**

* * *

Eragon woke up to the sounds of rapid knocking on his door and someone calling out his name rather loudly. Groggily, he flung off his blanket and hastened towards the door, he opened it and was immediately tackled by a mop of blond hair.

"Eragon, do you know what day today is?", a voice excitedly asked from somewhere around his waist. The owner of the voice looked up at him, it was Helen, his 'sister'. They weren't related by blood, but cared for each other as if they were. He had been with her since she was taken into the orphanage at only 4 months old, now she was 9 and he was 17. She had a bright blue eyes filled with joy and a round face framed by her blond hair.

"No, is today important?", he smiled fondly at her.

She pouted, "You couldn't have forgotten, I just told you yesterday, today the elf and the dragon will be present just outside the citadel near the overhang. I heard the soldiers announcing that those wishing to see a dragon egg and a real dragon may visit the overhang at noon. Can we please go Eragon, it will be fun!", Helen exclaimed. She spun around in elation.

"Sure, I'll ask Ms. Margaret, what time is it?", Eragon asked. "It will be noon soon, we should go quickly, I really don't want to miss the dragon", Helen said, tugging at his tunic in her enthusiasm.

Eragon smiled, and said "Let me freshen up and then we'll leave." Helen squealed with joy and ran off, presumably to her room. Eragon merely laughed and set off for his morning routine.

An hour later, he sat next to Ms. Margaret eating his porridge while she combed Susan's hair.

"Ms. Margaret, I am 15 now, I am sure I can comb on my own.", whined Susan. "Oh hush now, you are still a child to me.", Ms. Margaret chided her gently. Eragon chuckled, Ms. Margaret was always like a mother hen to all of them. The lady was now 59 winters old and stilled fretted over them.

"Oh, I forgot, when will Rose be visiting us, Ms. Margaret?", Eragon asked. He hadn't seen Rose in quite a while, she was 25 and had already left the orphanage as all did when they turned 18.

"I think she'll visit us in the next few days, my dear. She's a bit busy working for that healer.", Ms. Margaret replied.

"And I have been meaning to ask you, can Helen and I visit the overhang this noon, she wishes to see the dragon again.", Eragon chortled. He himself had seen the great reptile only once, it was huge and green and was flying at a great distance from Eragon.

"Of course dear, but do take care of Helen, she might get lost in the crowd.", Ms Margaret replied, looking at Eragon. He nodded, placed his finished porridge on the table, and called for Helen, "We are going Helly."

Soon, both of them were standing in a long queue with people restlessly talking among themselves, and shoving each other, trying to look at the head of the queue. Poor Helen couldn't see anything at all, Eragon, upon seeing her state, grinned and lifted the girl, placing her on his shoulders, Helen giggled and started playing with his hair, suddenly she stopped all movement. Eragon, confused, looked up and saw her staring ahead, "What happened, Helen?", he asked.

"It's the Dragon!", she squealed, clapping her hands together.

After another hour, they finally got near the head of the queue and Eragon, just like everybody else around him, stopped still. It really was a dragon. There, it lay on its belly, covering nearly half of the massively broad road. It appeared to be sleeping. It was huge, it's head alone must have been the size of Eragon, and it's talons as big as Eragon's arms, the dragon's wings were folded but they still looked humongous. But the dragon itself was beautiful, it's spikes were the colours of forest leaves with the sun shining through them making them look like the finest emeralds, becoming near white at the base of his paws. It's tail was nearly half as long as it's body and was jutted with larger spikes which were a bit darker than it's main body. It truly was majestic.

A bit later Eragon's attention focussed on the person leaning against the hind limb of the dragon. It was the elf. And it was a female! She seemed to be observing the proceedings at the front of the line where the soldiers were showing something to a man. She didn't dress like a lady should, thought Eragon, she wore leggings and a leather jerkin along with boots. She had flowing black hair and ears with pointed tips, she was tall for a woman and had a lithe built. Suddenly her head turned towards his general direction. Eragon's breath caught in his throat, and the muttering around him increased, he discovered that he alone wasn't looking at the elf. Now that he had a full look of her face, he was sure that it couldn't belong to a human. Her face was angular, with high cheekbones and a defined jaw, her nose was perfectly straight and her eyes were slanted like a cat, they were green just like her dragon. Her skin had no blemishes and no scars, it was unreal, it was just too...perfect.

Other men, and women ogled her like fools but Eragon was disconcerted. There was something wrong about her, it was unnerving, this ethereal beauty. Before he knew it, he was at the front of the line, now that he looked ahead of himself. There were about 20 soldiers in full armour spread out around a pedestal on which lay a bright blue jewel. It was slightly larger than Eragon's hand, and was oval-ish in shape. It was the dragon egg Helen was talking about. As Eragon stepped forward the soldier next to him put his hand out and stopped him.

"One person at a time.", he said. Remembering Helen, who was silently perched on his shoulder, he placed her on the ground and gently pushed her ahead. Helen happily skipped over to the pedestal which was a few yards ahead, with the soldier accompanying her. Eragon stayed behind, smiling at Helen. This girl was the closest thing to him in this world, and her happiness meant everything to him.

Helen reached the pedestal and curiously eyed the pretty egg, her eyes wide with wonder.

"Place your palm on the egg.", the soldier said in a monotone. Helen, slightly confused, placed her tiny palm on the egg and stroked it gently. Almost immediately, the egg started shaking, Helen snatched her hand back and looked at the egg with wide eyes. The soldier beside her was also looking at the egg in silent amazement. Crack! Eragon's eyes snapped back at the egg, it had a crack on it, the fissure wasn't present there a moment ago-another Crack! followed. Rapidly, the fissures were spreading and covering the entire egg. With a final Crack! A tiny reptilian head poked out of the egg covering. Immediately, the 20 soldiers advanced and formed a circle around Helen and the baby dragon, behind Eragon the people were shouting and shoving to look at the miracle. Eragon himself watched with wide eyes, as the dragon slowly struggled and broke the egg's covering and finally freed itself. It couldn't stand and immediately collapsed on the pedestal. It let out a low screech and looked at Helen curiously, it was blue in colour and was about as big as Eragon's palm.

"Touch the dragon, child.", came an exotic voice beside Eragon. It was the she-elf. Eragon hadn't even noticed her approach, even her dragon was now awake and looking at their direction. Helen, followed the advice, and raised her right palm to touch the dragon's snout. As soon as her hand came into contact with the dragon their was a bright silver flash, and Helen clutched her right palm with a yell. Fearing something ill had occurred, Eragon yelled, "Helen!" and rushed towards her, but the soldiers in between them immediately grabbed his arms and stopped his approach, "Stay back boy", a soldier grunted and they threw Eragon backwards. He landed in a heap and shakily stood up, by now there was chaos everywhere, the people were shouting among themselves and trying to break the queue to see what had occurred, the soldiers were conversing with the she-elf and her green dragon was approaching them. Helen had seemed to recover now, and was curiously looking at her palm and then at the blue dragon.

The soldiers parted and formed a semi circle around Helen, so that now she faced Eragon. The she-elf stepped forward "There's no need to be afraid child, the dragon has chosen you, have you heard about the Dragon Riders?", she asked. Helen nodded silently.

"Good, now you have become a Dragon Rider yourself. King Gallbatorix wishes that you join him for dinner, and discuss about your future as the Dragon Rider of the Broddring Empire", the elf spoke calmly. "As you can see, I am a Dragon Rider too, I will help you learn and understand what it means to be a Dragon Rider. So, do you accept the King's request?", the elf enquired. Helen once again nodded mutely. "Thank you", the elf smiled gently.

She turned towards the soldiers and said, "Make everyone else leave as peacefully as possible, don't do anything to startle the young dragon." The soldiers immediately broke up into pairs and started to move towards the crowd. One soldier came up to Eragon, grabbed his arm roughly and tried to drag Eragon away.

"No, that's my sister.", Eragon said as he struggled to break free. The soldier punched him in the face "Go home, the show's over", he growled.

"Stop, don't hurt my brother!", Helen yelled. When the soldier didn't listen and continued to drag a struggling Eragon, Helen's dragon, sensing her distress screeched loudly again, and suddenly the soldier was sent flying 20 feet away by an invisible force.

"Stop", immediately said the elf. The soldiers at once stilled their movements, the she-elf turned to Helen, "Is he your brother?", she motioned towards Eragon who lay on the ground. Helen nodded once again, with tears streaming down her face.

"It's alright child, don't cry. He'll come with us to King, is that what you want?", the elf questioned.

"Thank you", was Helen's reply. "You are welcome, just remain calm Helen, your dragon senses your emotions.", the elf said gently. Then she turned towards Eragon and motioned her soldiers to pick him up.

"He comes with us. Let's go, child." And so, Helen picked up her blue dragon and followed Arya with the soldiers trailing behind along with Eragon.

* * *

Eragon looked in awe at the fancy hallways, on the walls hung beautiful paintings and portraits, the main corridor was flanked by finely crafted pillars that touched the ceiling, on which hung several chandeliers. He was astounded by the sheer exquisiteness of the royal palace. He looked ahead and saw Helen cradling her baby dragon and talking to the elf in quite whispers. The soldiers around him stopped as they had reached an enormous door, the elf stepped forward and grasped both the golden handles and pushed open the door. It soundlessly opened and the party marched in, Eragon could make out a man sitting on a throne, it was the king. He seemed to be in his fourth decade, with black hair and a lean face, his built has tall and strong which was accentuated by his broad shoulders.

The throne room itself was enormous, with broad pillars that seemed to reach for the sky, Eragon couldn't see the ceiling, the room dwarfed all the hallways he had walked through. Finally, they stopped in front of the steps that lead to the throne, the soldiers drew back and Eragon and the elf took places on either sides of Helen. The king sat regally on the throne, behind which was a giant black curtain.

"So, is this child our new Dragon Rider, Arya?", asked the king, nodding towards Helen. His voice was deep and rich, like that of an orator.

"Yes, your majesty, the dragon chose her.", replied the elf, whose name was Arya.

"This is a blessed day for all of us, the rise of the Dragon Riders has begun. What is your name my dear?", asked the king.

"H-Helen", stuttered the shy girl.

"It's a lovely name", the king smiled fatherly, "..and who might you be?", he questioned, looking at Eragon.

"He claims to be her brother, your majesty. We couldn't make him leave as the hatchling wouldn't allow it. It even used Dragon Magic to push back one of our men.", said Arya quickly.

The king's eyebrows shot up, "Remarkable...but your features don't match with that of your sister's young man, what is your name?", asked the king.

"My name is Eragon, sir. Helen and I aren't related by blood, we are orphans.", he replied looking at his feet. "Who named you?", the king asked, his voice a bit higher than before. The elf too looked startled.

"I don't know sir, I have been an orphan my entire life.", said Eragon.

"Hmm...and what is it that you wish for me to do, Eragon? From now on your sister shall stay in the castle and be trained in the ways of the Dragon Riders. It's unfortunate, but this must be done. You will have to leave your sister, Eragon.", said the king. Eragon looked at Helen's distraught face, her eyes were once again filled with tears and her body tremored slightly.

"Please, your majesty, allow me to stay with Helen, she's the closest thing I have to a family. I will do anything to stay in the castle, sir, I will work in the stables or clean dishes in the kitchen, I will help the maids in cleaning chambers, I am even willing to serve as a page to one of your knights, sir. But please, let me stay beside Helen!", he fell on his knees and begged desperately.

"I sympathise with your situation, child. I truly do, but-", "- what is that?", the king's hand immediately pointed at Eragon. "What's under your shirt, boy?", the king's voice held a sense of alarm, Eragon looked at his chest and realised what the king meant.

"These are my markings, your majesty, I have had them ever since I can remember, they appear whenever I am strained or overtaxed physically, they disappear after some time.", answered Eragon.

The king's eyebrows shot up for the second time since their arrival, "Remove your tunic, Eragon. I wish to see these markings of yours.", the king leaned forward from his position. Complying quickly, Eragon pulled off his grey tunic and displayed 2 lines, each about an inch wide, that seemed to originate from his navel and crossed each other at regular intervals, forming a spiral on his upper torso, his back too had a similar design and the markings reached up till his neck just beneath his Adam's Apple.

 **[A/N: if you have trouble imagining it..here's the inspiration... . /search?q=dna+sketch &rlz=1C1CHBD_enIN800IN800&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwi375vXr9XbAhXNb30KHSAhDzcQ_AUICigB&biw=1707&bih=759&dpr=1.13#imgrc=3_OS8WDg-grW6M:]**

The king's eyes widened and he shot up from his throne, he stared at the markings for a full minute before he hastily climbed down the steps and directly stood in front of Eragon.

"Turn around.", the king spoke sharply. Hesitantly, the boy turned to face the equally confused soldiers. "Everybody, leave. Now. Arya, take Helen to your room and answer her questions, I am sure she has many. Eragon, I wish to talk to you alone.", said the king. Immediately the soldiers turned around and dispersed quickly, Arya took a reluctant Helen along with her, closing the door behind her, leaving the two men alone.

"Have you ever observed anything irregular manifest when these markings appear?", asked the king, his voice an octave higher than before.

"No, sir.", answered Eragon. "It couldn't be...", the king muttered to himself, "how is this possible? It shouldn't exist.", the king paced around Eragon restlessly.

"Do you know magic?". Eragon shook his head. The king nodded, apparently satisfied. He took another circle around Eragon's naked torso, his eyes trying to comprehend the markings.

"Today is truly a blessed day.", the king laughed deeply.

"Whose the Matron of your orphanage, Eragon?", asked the king. "Ms. Margaret, your majesty.", answered the boy.

"Gertude!", called the king, a woman entered through a small side door on the left wall of the room. "Give Ms. Margaret, the Matron of the orphanage here in Urubaen, 5000 gold coins as a gift from the Crown. Also, ensure that the orphanage is moved to inside the citadel and they are provided with everything they require. All expenses will be paid from the royal treasury.", the king ordered.

"T-Thank you, your majesty. Your kindness means a lot to us orphans.", Eragon stammered. The king smiled "This is least I could do for those who have given me such precious gifts. Eragon, I wish for you to be my vassal.

Do you accept my request?", asked the king. The floor seemed to shift beneath Eragon's feet, "Y-Your Majesty?", Eragon's voice shook.

"I wish for you to be my vassal.", the king repeated smilingly. What was happening? An ordinary orphan boy with nothing to his name was being offered the position of a vassal , and that too of the king? Eragon might not understand the reason, but he understood this would allow him to see his sister everyday.

Quickly making up his mind, the bewildered boy knelt and said, "It would be my honour, your grace."

The king unsheathed his sword, it was stark white, an absolute contrast to his all black attire, and tapped once on each of Eragon's shoulders with the flat of his blade. "Rise, my vassal.", the king intoned. Eragon stood up shakily, his face etched with confusion and surprise.

"Gertude, take Eragon to his new room. And inform the orphanage that both, Helen and Eragon will live in the palace from now on. They'll visit Ms. Margaret tomorrow morning.", ordered the king as he sheathed his sword.

"Rest up, Eragon. We'll meet at dinner." Both Gertude and Eragon bowed and left the throne room as the king climbed up the steps to his throne.

* * *

Eragon still couldn't properly comprehend what had just occurred, his mind was still trying to catch up with the events of the day, first the dragon and now this vassal position. He shook his head and tried to organise his thoughts as he followed Gertude in this maze of hallways. Soon, they stood in front of a door, "This will be your room.", said Gertude.

"Can I see my sister first? I think she's in Arya's room", asked Eragon. Gertude nodded and just walked one more door ahead.

"This is Lady Arya's room. Meet your sister and rest, I will come to your room to get you for dinner with the king.", she bowed and walked away

. Eragon turned towards the door and knocked twice, it was opened by the elf, her emerald-like eyes staring at him "Um...is Helen inside?", he asked. She simply nodded and stood aside to let him in.

Eragon lost count of the number of times he had been surprised today. The room was a forest, there were actual trees growing inside and the ceiling was absent, they were directly under the evening sun, shaded by trees. There also was a small stream running from one corner of the room to another, a light breeze blew ruffling Eragon's hair. For the first time today, he felt at peace. His gaze soon fell on a vine which had somehow been made into a large bed, on it sat Helen, waving energetically at him.

"This room is magical, Eragon!", Helen yelled happily, voicing his exact thoughts. Her baby dragon too screeched in agreement. Helen ran upto him, her one arm cradling the dragon and the other wrapped around his waist. Eragon too, wrapped his hands around her small form and smiled at her, "So, did you like this palace?", "It's beautiful! Will you stay with me Eragon? Arya says that you'll have to convince the king. Did you convince him? Please stay with me Eragon.", the young girl gushed rapidly.

"Of course I convinced him, Helly. He made me his vassal.", Eragon stroked her hair in an effort to soothe her.

"What's that?", asked Helen, curiosity marring her face.

"It means I will serve him, and then I can stay in the castle with you.", he grinned. The girl squealed with joy and hugged him even more tightly.

"When do you start to serve him?", came a voice to his right. Eragon turned to see the elf standing next to them with her arms folded, he had forgotten about her. It was unnerving how she came up next to him without making a sound. He looked at her and once again was struck by the unearthly feeling that oozed from her, there was something exquisite about her and Eragon wasn't entirely sure that he liked it. He had seen other men react to her beauty but to him it just didn't feel...safe. Her beauty put him on the edge, he simply couldn't relax around her, it made him feel restless and uncomfortable.

The corners of Arya's lips turned upwards and Eragon realised he hadn't graced her with an answer yet.

"I don't know myself, I will ask him at dinner.", replied Eragon hastily. She merely nodded. He gently loosened himself from Helen's hug and ruffled her hair playfully, "Where's your room?", he asked. "It's just next to Arya's. Where's yours?", Helen enquired.

"We are neighbours", he smiled at her. "I am tired, I think I will just sleep till dinner. You should rest too, it's been a long day.", he gently kissed her forehead, and stroked the baby dragon as it crooned happily.

He turned towards Arya "Thank you for taking care of Helen." The elf gave a bird-like nod, and with a final wave to Helen, he went towards his room.


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: The only thing I own is my imagination.**

* * *

Eragon was having a tough time deciding which tunic to wear; he was standing half-naked in front of his wooden wardrobe, contemplating the neatly arranged pile of tunics. "This wardrobe is huge", Eragon thought exasperatedly. But then again, everything in this castle was. Eragon's room -if it could be called that- was bigger than the entire first storey of the orphanage; it had two wardrobes, a full sized mirror, a bath, a small study area and two wall-sized shelves filled with books in a foreign language.

The walls themselves were cream colored and on them hung a painting of some snow clad mountains, and a map of Alagaesia. The ceiling was colored blue and on it hung a candle holder as large as Eragon. Truth be told, Eragon was a bit disappointed that his room wasn't as beautiful as Arya's, but that thought had soon evaporated upon looking at the three windows that provided the most enchanting view he had ever witnessed. One window overlooked the citadel, another overlooked some woods and you could see a river rushing across it, and the last window was directly above the castle's royal garden.

Eragon wasn't sure he would ever get used to this grandeur, this place would be his home now for the foreseeable future. On this particular thought Eragon became a bit nervous. He hoped he would serve the king well, so as to remain as close to Helen as was possible. He didn't know much about his own position, only that he owed service and allegiance to the king. What those services exactly entailed, Eragon would have to wait till dinner.

He was roused from his thoughts by a knock at his door. Hastily putting on a green tunic, he made his way towards the towards the door, running a hand over his untamed brown hair. Standing on the otherside were Helen and the woman named Gertude.

"Let's go Eragon, it's time.", Helen beckoned him. She was wearing a turquoise gown with golden leaves embroidered along the sleeves. She was beaming up at him, while tugging at his arm.

" Just a mome-", "What's that?", Eragon immediately took the girl's right palm and looked at her with alarmed eyes. On her palm was a silver diffused spiral oval-ish mark etched into the skin.

"Oh, it's called gedvy-something. Arya said it is the mark of a dragon rider. She has one too. It appears when you first touch a dragon.", nodded Helen wisely.

"Did it hurt?", asked Eragon, his grip tightening on Helen's hand. "No, it felt like cold water rushing through me. It was ticklish.", Helen giggled and pulled out her hand. Eragon stood up, he hadn't realized he had been kneeling next to his sister.

"And where is your Dragon?" asked Eragon, so far the dragon had always remained at Helen's side.

"Oh, she's with Firnen, he's teaching her how to eat." Helen replied enthusiastically.

This day was the most confusing Eragon had ever witnessed. Everything so far had been baffling. "Your Dragon is a female? How do you know that? And who is Firnen?", asked a perplexed Eragon.

"Yes my dragon's a girl, Arya told me. And Firnen is the name of her dragon, the big green one." Helen giggled. She had been ding that a lot today, Eragon noted.

"Why didn't you name your Dragon?" he asked.

"Dragons choose their own names when they are old enough to understand what it means. It should be in a few weeks." Helen said sagely.

Gertude made a noise in the back of her throat. Understanding her impatience, Eragon stepped out of his doorway and closed the door behind him. Looking at Helen's eager eyes, he grinned. "You ready for dinner?", asked Eragon. Helen merely skipped off ahead with Gertude and Eragon trailing behind her.

* * *

According to Eragon, dinner had been a solemn affair so far. Helen and he had arrived at another hall which was lit with several candles and had huge glass windows which looked out into the night sky and the spiral buildings of the citadel. At the center was a wooden dinning table on which sat three people. The king was at the head, smiling at the two of them. On his left sat the elf, while on his right sat a muscular man with broad shoulders and close-cropped black hair. He had intelligent coal black eyes, a child-like mouth and for some reason he was wearing a steel breastplate.

Both, the elf and the human, looked at them uncaringly.

"Ah, here they are. Helen, Eragon, meet Lord Barst. He will be joining us for dinner.", the king's voice rang out. After being motioned by the king, Eragon sat down next to Lord Barst while Helen took a seat beside Arya.

Food had already been laid out, and dinner had begun without further ado. Eragon noted that there was no meat in the servings. As if he had read his mind, King Galbatorix smilingly stated,"Elves don't consume flesh, it's against their beliefs.", he nodded at Arya, who was eating some sliced carrots. "So, we also avoid meat during dinner, when Arya joins us at the table.'' Eragon nodded confusedly. Not eat meat! What were they supposed to survive on!? Carrots and Spinach?

The dinner resumed in silence. Helen's excited buzz had disappeared on the sight of Lord Barst, now she was quietly picking away at her vegetables. Eragon looked down at his plate filled with tomatoes and beans, and he halfheartedly forked his beans. Eragon feverishly thanked everything that existed in this world for Ms. Margaret's table manner lessons. They had saved his face today. It would have been excruciatingly embarrassing to dine with the king and not know how to use a fork.

Halfway through the deathly silent dinner, the king spoke up, "Lord Barst, I wish that you stay in Urubaen for a while longer."

The said man, looked up at the king, with his eyebrows raise," Why, your majesty? My work is done here.", Barst responded, putting his fork down.

"True, Lord Barst. But I have one more task for you, I wish that you train Eragon in warfare and the like." said King Galbatorix.

"Your majesty, with all due respect, you can easily acquire a master-at-arms for the boy. I have to suppress the rebels in Gil'ead. I don't have time to squander, my lord." Barst answered, looking fully into the king's eyes.

"I don't underestimate the value of your time Lord Barst, but this is important to me. I am sure you understand." The king replied smoothly.

"Why? I thought the girl was more precious to you, she's a damn rider." Barst replied rudely. His eyes still not wavering from the king's face.

The king threw back his head and laughed deeply. "That's similar to asking which of your eyes do you prefer, Lord Barst. Helen will be taught magic and warfare by Arya. We have already discussed it. She will only train Helen in magic and the mind arts for the coming years. Maybe unarmed combat. But swords and arrows come later. Much later. Helen is a child after all."

Eragon and Helen both looked at the king surprisedly. Eragon knew they would have to learn how to use swords and spears soon, but this was just too early.

"However, Eragon is already a man now. And I would be more than pleased if you personally taught him everything you know. Consider it a favor, Lord Barst.", the king continued. At this Barst leaned back into his chair, and scrutinized Eragon. His eyes noting every detail. Eragon couldn't help but fidget under his gaze, his fingers interlocking among themselves and his feet closing up on each other.

"Do you know how to hold a sword, boy?" this question was directed at him. Eragon shook his head, Barst slammed his fist into the table in frustration. Immediately, Eragon's eyes shot up from his lap towards Lord Barst's face. The king merely chuckled, "Well, that's less to unlearn, isn't it?"

Lord Barst didn't seem assured. He looked back at Eragon, this time into his eyes. Determined not to back down, Eragon held the man's gaze. The man leant forward slightly, Eragon merely clutched his chair's armrests and looked back at those unyielding eyes. Slowly, Lord Barst turned his head away to look at the king. Eragon let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "He'll do fine." Barst grunted.

The king merely smiled back. "Congratulations Eragon, you are the apprentice of the Imperial Army's Lord General." said the king. Eragon merely nodded his gratitude. Stilled stunned by the slight game, he looked at the other side, Helen was gaping at Barst while Arya was looking at Eragon with curious eyes, her carrots forgotten.

The king, now seemingly eager, leant forward, placing his elbows on the table and spoke in Lord Barst's general direction, "I do hope you'll begin tomorrow."

"Aye, we begin at morn boy; I'll send a servant to bring you to the training room. Be up by dawn." Lord Barst addressed Eragon. Turning to the king, "Does he know magic?" asked Barst.

"Not yet, but I am sure he will by tomorrow. I want him to be tutored by Magister Cognitios in that subject along with the history of all the races of Alagaesia." said the king. "Oh, and that reminds me, we will have weekly discussions on politics and philosophy related to maintaining order", the king directed this statement towards Helen and Eragon. Both of them nodded dumbly.

"And Lord Barst, I would like to hear your thoughts on enhancing Eragon's abilities after a few months of training." said the king.

"Why wait? Better to do it tomorrow morn, it gives the boy more time to adapt and I can increase the pace of his training." grunted Barst, now seemingly disinterested in the conversation.

"Very well then. Eragon, come to the throne room by dawn, I shall bestow a few gifts upon you", the king said blithely.

"You're not leaving any stone unturned, are you?" Barst snorted. The king smiled his peculiar smile, "Don't we all, Lord Barst?"

* * *

By dawn, Eragon stood in front of the king, who sat on his royal throne. By his side stood Lord Barst. Both men looked down at him, one with a smile, and the other with indifference. "Eragon, first I would like to name you as my vassal in the ancient language. Then we can go ahead with augmenting your physical abilities." the king said in an understanding tone. Eragon merely nodded, everything so far had gone above his head, he just hoped it wouldn't be painful and would be over quickly. Eragon didn't want to stay in this throne room any longer than necessary, the air here seemed to strum with irregularity. It made him feel as if he had an itch he couldn't reach.

"I will enter your mind, child. Remain calm and if something goes amiss just signal me to stop. It should be painless and shall be over fairly quickly", the king looked at him fatherly. Once again, Eragon nodded mutely.

You could enter other peoples' minds! How? Was this what they called magic? Feeling excited and apprehensive in equal amounts, Eragon readied himself. What for, he didn't know.

Suddenly, he felt a presence inside his head, it was light but moving quickly back and forth. Randomly, some memories came into the forefront without Eragon's command. Him learning his letters, going on that picnic in the countryside, the dragon egg, his green tunic, the map of Alagaesia, then those memories were replaced by others. The dinner last night, Ms. Margaret knitting, him tickling Helen, Lord Barst. His brain started feeling a bit pressurized in the front, just below his scalp. And then, as quickly as it had entered, the floating presence exited.

There was a moment of quietness; time itself seemed to stand still, the two men looked down at the shaken boy and then the king's voice pierced the silence of the throne room. He uttered two words, two mere words, but to Eragon they were everything. His entire body hummed with acceptance, it resonated with the vibrations of those words.

What those words meant, he didn't know, they were foreign to his ears; but their essence wasn't lost to him. He understood that they were _him._ They summarized his entire existence, they made him feel alive; but most of all, they _defined_ him.

More words followed, but they didn't hold the same weight as the previous two. For some reason, Eragon couldn't understand a single word that fell from the king's lips. He was murmuring several sentences in a low voice, but they didn't seem to be directed at Lord Barst or him. Abruptly, the king stopped and faced Eragon; with a wide smile he said "Well that was quick, wasn't it? And look, your marks have been activated again." Eragon looked down at his chest and sure enough, the black markings had appeared.

"Now it's time you received gifts suitable for the king's only vassal. It will be a bit itchy, Eragon, I recommend that you try to focus on the black curtain behind the throne and not clench or tense any of your limbs and muscles." instructed the king. Eragon nodded his understanding.

Turning his head towards Lord Barst, "On par with the elves, I presume?" asked the king. "Yes." was all Barst uttered, his eyes focused on Eragon. The king again started his murmuring, this time the words were being rapidly uttered and without rest, but they were spoken with more intensity and the throne room was filled with the king's frantic voice.

Eragon's back suddenly developed an itch; he resisted the urge to scratch it. Soon that sensation traveled to his arm, and then it spread to his neck. Within a minute, the prickling feeling had covered his entire body, Eragon ignored the irritation and looked at the huge black curtain that seemed to hang behind the throne, his eyes were watering and he had to forcefully command his arms to not move and remain as listless as possible. Occasionally his hands would twitch on their own accord, and move towards the body part which was itching the most, but Eragon would consciously try to not scratch, and remain calm. After a few more agonizing moments, the king stopped his whispering, and the prickling sensation subsided. "It is done."

Barst nodded, "Run in circles, boy."

Eragon stood confused. "What?" he asked.

Barst sighed, "Run around in circles inside this damn throne room."

Still not quite certain what he was supposed to do or why, Eragon started jogging with intent to run along the walls. But what was this!? He was running, and too fast. Abruptly he stopped; perplexed, he stared at his legs. He hadn't put enough effort to break into a run but he had been sprinting.

"Go on, this time _run._ And don't stop until I say so." urged Lord Barst's voice from behind.

Eragon went for a full run this time, and it felt as if someone had bodily thrown him at a great speed, everything was blur, and before he knew it, a wall was nearly at his face. He desperately dug his feet into the marble floor, but it wasn't enough and he crashed into the wall. But, instead of sharp pain he only felt numb; it was as if he had collided with a thick blanket and not a three-foot wide wall. Shakily he backed away from the wall and began to run along it, this time he was used to the sensation, but it was still too fast for him. He felt too light and too quick, this speed was disorienting, and his balance was off, still he continued to follow Lord Barst's order and continued to run in circles. It was after when the sun was finally up that Lord Barst whispered "Stop." Somehow, Eragon heard the command and halted to a spot, his breathing even. "Can you see the hairs above my upper lip?" asked Lord Barst. "Yes, I think I can even count them." Eragon replied with amazement.

"It seems to have worked well on Eragon." the king chuckled. The said boy looked at his own body in awe, was this what elves were capable of? Was this what Arya was capable of? His speed had improved immensely along with his other senses, now that he thought about it, he could smell a faint musky smell emanating from the back of the throne.

Eragon's eyes caught a flicker of movement and immediately he leaped towards his right. He looked up at the throne, to see Lord Barst looking at him with one of his hands outstretched. The muscular man slowly retracted his hand and grunted his approval, he walked down the steps, bowed to the king and walked away with a "Follow me, boy" said into the air. The bewildered boy hurriedly bowed deep to the king and darted towards his teacher, as King Galbatorix laughed to the empty throne room.

* * *

Eragon had never felt pain such as this. His entire body was covered in cuts, not deep enough to be harmful, but certainly enough to bleed. He had come to the training session with Lord Barst, in this underground chamber, expecting pain. Bruises. Welts. Perhaps even a cracked rib or two.

Their lesson had begun well enough, the first two hours had been dedicated to him learning the proper grip and stances with a one-handed steel sword. They had progressed slowly with Lord Barst patiently demonstrating the correct movement and Eragon mimicking him, still getting used to his enhanced body.

After a while, Lord Barst had insisted on sparring sessions.

He had in their first bout, disarmed Eragon and then drew gash down the side of his left cheek. The wound still bled.

Eragon had thought-hoped-that the injury was an accident. That hope was squashed when in their next bout the man carved a line across his other cheek.

That had occurred fifteen minutes ago, and already Eragon was tiring from the accumulated effects of the wounds Lord Barst had produced on his body. His elf- like body.

He had been methodical and had made him pay for every mistake he made in blood. Once, his footwork had been clumsy. The man sketched a bloody line across his calf. Another time his grip on the sword had been incorrect. Lord Barst had slashed a cut on his fore- arm that ran along its entire length. This time his stance had wavered, and his teacher had retaliated by carving a furrow down his chest.

That had been all he could take, and so Eragon fell back and landed against the ground in a sitting position with a loud thud.

"Get up," Lord Barst spoke, not a speck of compassion in his iron voice, "I am not done with you yet."

"I am bleeding!" Eragon protested, and showed the blood that stained his hands. This was probably the longest he had spoken in Lord Barst's presence.

"You have bled before. You will live." was all the man said.

The student gawked at his teacher. He had expected Barst to be cruel and heartless in his instruction. But this was a level beyond that.

"You can't be serious. I'll be a corpse at this rate." protested Eragon, he was already feeling light-headed

"Your exaggerations do you no favors, boy. None of your wounds are fatal."

Not certain about this particular fact, Eragon looked down at his limbs. These wounds hurt. A lot. Added to the exhaustion he felt during the brief, yet intense sparring sessions, it made him feel completely drained. He doubted he'd have the strength left to walk back to his room.

"Get up," the teacher repeated, "Cease from this weakling behavior."

Eragon swallowed the curse that had been forming on his lips with difficulty. Instead, he settled for just glaring at the man. He was exhausted both mentally and physically, and this lead to the lessening his initial inhibitions.

"Come at me," Lord Barst ordered.

"No!" Eragon was surprised at his own refusal. What the man asked of him. What he demanded of Eragon, seemed impossible, "I have learned nothing from you! You just can't expect me to match you all of a sudden! I need to learn the stances! The movements! All you're doing is bashing your sword against mine!"

Lord Barst barked a short, humorless laugh. And then he surged forward, armored form a blur. Eragon only had time to hurriedly stand back up before Barst was upon him. For the millionth time today, Eragon was grateful for his augmented body.

The opponent's blade crashed down, and he felt the weariness in his limbs increase two-fold as his sword rose to parry. Lord Barst grunted at the impact and the two blades locked. Eragon's knees abruptly gave away.

"You are weak," Barst snarled menacingly into his face, and the sword that he held pressed unswervingly underneath his chin.

Eragon fought with all his strength, but it was a futile struggle. The man before him was entirely something else; he had kept up with Eragon's elven speed easily, despite clearly not having any amplifications of his own.

"You are pathetic," Eragon winced as his teacher leaned in closer. The smoldering black eyes glared at him tauntingly.

The sword dug into Eragon's chin and drew blood.

Eragon hissed in pain.

"You are _mediocre_ ," before the boy could respond, Lord Barst backhanded him and sent him rolling away.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Eragon lifted his head from the ground and pawed at his aching cheek, "Why are you doing this!?"

"I am training you."

"This isn't training," he spat, "This is Hell."

"You must go through Hell first before entering Heaven." retaliated Lord Barst.

"Such training isn't possible for mere humans. I can't handle it." mumbled Eragon.

"Foolish boy," the man mocked, " we humans never truly realize our species' potential."

The boy stood unsteadily back up, and then dropped back down when Lord Barst's armored fist slammed into his stomach.

"Do you really think that power alone comes from strength? Do you really think what the king intends of you can be learned from some stances and movements? Are you really that witless?"

The man kicked Eragon. The ironclad boot lifted him off the ground and hurled him ten feet through the air.

Eragon clawed at his fallen blade, wrested from his hand when he had locked their blades. Lord Barst stomped down, and the boy cried out as his fingers were ground painfully under the man's sole.

"For you to become great, you must first know weakness. For you to ignore pain, you must first walk through the fires of agony. For you to win, you must first learn to lose."

Barst released him, and the boy cradled his injured hand tenderly.

"Those are universal truths, Eragon. But humanity refuses to accept it. Mankind will not embrace them for fear of the hurt they will cause. But those few who do, shine all the brighter."

Lord Barst flicked his fallen blade towards him with his own. Eragon reached for it with trembling hands.

"It is not strength that makes man great. It is not might that makes our race the destined rulers of the stars. It is will! Strength of will! Courage of will!"

He rose painfully, using his sword as support.

Eragon ached all over. He bled from a dozen wounds purposely inflicted by his teacher. His arms felt like they were on fire, his vision was blurry and his muscles screamed in protest.

"Great men become great because they will it! Heroic deeds are done because heroes will it! And believe me when I say you can defeat me, Eragon, _if you will it!_ "

The man pointed his sword at him,"The question is, do you will it?"

The boy bit his lip and brought his sword up, pointing directly at Lord Barst's chest.

Lord Barst smiled for the first time.

"I thought so."

And then both men charged.

* * *

A/N: Hi, I am back :)

I am really thankful to all those of you who reviewed/ favorited/ followed by story. Please do continue to do so.

I decided to answer the reviews publicly,

 **kiwisniper: This has been a great start keep it up. I curious whether or not you'll add other characters from the book since this is a very different setting? Also is Arya a name slave?**

Thanks. I will be adding other characters from the book(in time) with slightly tweaked personalities eg. Murtagh( I am sure you must have guessed it) but some of the characters won't be introduced eg. Brom. As for Arya, you'll have to wait and read. Hope that answered your questions. Once again, thanks for being my first reviewer :D

 **Guest: This is really good, please continue**

Thanks, I am here to stay. Would have preferred to know you by some name lol. next time; review using your ID. Thanks for taking out time to review my story.

 **MichaelL01: i like the idea but would have prefered eragon the blue rider but it is your story and I would like to see it continued. good work**

Sorry to disappoint you Michael but in this story Eragon won't be a rider. I do have another story idea with Eragon being a dragon rider. But, that story won't be published for a _very_ long time. Until then, I am sure you'll enjoy this story. And thanks for the compliment, such reviews always motivate me to write these chapters(believe me, writing 3k+ words per chapters is tough).

 **Elemental Dragon Slayer:** **This is certainly an interesting AU. Eragon is not a rider but has some innate abilities due to these markings I assume? Interesting to find out more. Arya being a servant of the king put me on a bender lol! Has Galby found her true name and enslaved her? Or will we just have to find out later? (also, I'm interested to see just how powerful Eragon becomes... huehuehue)**

Thanks, this idea just came to me randomly in school. Yeah, Eragon won't be a rider and those markings do provide him certain capabilities. About Arya, you already guessed it ;)

 **Angvard Of Suburbia** **: Great start! I really hope you'll keep updating, and I'll look forward to see how the marks affect Eragon:D**

Thanks! Keep reading, keep reviewing!

 **SappySoulTaker:** **Sounds good so far, i hope you don't make Eragon a dragon rider too.**

haha, not a chance. The entire idea behind this story was to make Eragon different. Most stories feature him as a rider, some as a dragon, some a shade, others are modern AU. I decided to completely change the concept.

 **Ky111:** **Great start and concept so far. I really look forward to seeing how this story will continue.**

 **It's an interesting twist with Eragon not being a rider and I look forward to seeing how that plays out. Although I would still like him to become one eventually as personally it just doesn't seem like Eragon without a dragon perhaps if the King already doesn't have him Eragon will get Shuriken to hatch for him down the road but as I said I look forward to Eragon developing without one for a while but once he's older already well educated and accomplished in his own right on his own, he'll then have to learn to be a rider on top of everything else.**

 **Until the next one.**

There's a 99.99% chance that Eragon won't be a dragon rider. As for Shruikan, you need to read the first chapter more carefully ;)

I want to make Eragon a battle magician, if that makes sense. The concept was to write out only his perspective without another voice changing it, it was to make him as independent as possible. A man with nothing, but his own self.

* * *

 **That's all for now! I really appreciate you guys taking out time to review this story. Since it is my first, I do need other people's perspectives to decide if this story is heading in the correct direction. Please do continue to review!**

 **Until the next update!**


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: The only thing I own is my imagination.**

* * *

Tired. Exhausted. Spent. Worn-out. Fatigued.

No amount of words could describe what Eragon felt. The training session had ended a long time go, but the weariness had persisted.

After being seemingly satisfied with their lesson, Lord Barst had called in a healer to their training room. The man had muttered something and immediately Eragon's wounds had knitted themselves and the pain had receded. Within minutes, Eragon looked as if he had never sparred. The physical agony was over but his mind still throbbed with discomfort.

He had visited Ms. Margaret along with Helen, the poor woman had been worried sick for them. She had rushed up to them and hugged the life out of both the children. Eragon had spent the last 4 hours, patiently answering all of the tearful woman's questions. Helen had sat on her lap the entire time. Soon, two soldiers had come up to their orphanage to escort them back to the castle.

With watery eyes he said his goodbyes to the woman who had taught him how to live. But the old Matron was having none of it, making both of them promise to visit her every month; smilingly the children hugged her in response and slowly walked away with a sniveling Helen clinging onto Eragon's arm.

Now, he was walking towards his second lesson of the day, the king had told him about Magister Cognitios. He was the head of the royal library and would be his teacher in learning magic and the history of the races of Alagaesia. Not knowing what to expect, he just hoped it wouldn't lead to a lesson like the one with Lord Barst. Climbing two stairs at a time, he reached the third level of the castle, where the library took half of the space.

Just outside the main door, stood a man with fringes of winter-white hair covering his scalp, his face resembling a faded parchment adorned with an amiable smile. He stood slightly bent, due to old age or the weight of the massive books held in his arms, Eragon knew not; and wore black robes upon which rested the sigil of the Broddring Empire in gold.

Standing before him, Eragon bowed low "Magister Cognitios?"

The old man's smile widened, "And you must be Eragon, young man." his voice not quavering for a moment.

Eragon straightened up, the man's eyes were not filled with fatigue as Eragon would have imagined, but were glinting with enthusiasm and warmth. "I am." he answered smilingly.

"Are you now?" the man chuckled.

Not quite understanding the old man, Eragon opened his mouth; but the man had already turned away, "Let's go, _Eragon._ "

* * *

The teacher and the student sat on chairs, opposite to each other; between them lay books on a round wooden table. They sat by a huge window, surrounded by shelves stretching high towards the ceiling, they were stacked with books; the leather spines lined up neatly. The library was massive, which didn't really astonish Eragon, everything in this castle was.

He looked at his teacher.

The old man was hunched over in his wooden chair, leaning closer to the window, edging his hands towards the windowsill to warm them, despite it being midday. The sunlight illuminated his worn face, wrinkles boring deeply into his skin. The only sign of him being alive was his eyes; those cerulean blue orbs twinkled brightly, more than any other man Eragon had met.

 _Not women though_. A pair of cat like emerald eyes flashed in his mind. With a jerk, Eragon moved his head sideways, as if avoiding a fly. He hadn't even seen the elf today.

With that grandfatherly smile still on his face, Magister Cognitios leaned forward, "Well Eragon, I decided it was best if we began your apprenticeship with introducing the mind arts and gramarye."

Eragon, as clueless as yesterday, nodded.

And so began their lesson, the teacher talking in quite whispers and the student listening with wide eyes.

It was after another hour, the Eragon asked in disbelief, "How is this possible? Can everyone do this?"

"It's an art Eragon, of course it is possible. Not everyone can invade other's mind, only Dragon Riders and magicians are restricted to this feat. But, mental defense can be practiced by every commoner if taught properly." answered the man patiently.

"How does one know if their mind is invaded?" asked Eragon.

"You'll feel either intense pain or a presence inside your head."

"and how do I know if my mind is protected?" asked Eragon, his fingers fidgeting.

Magister Cognitios shook his head, "I just told you Eragon, mental defense needs to be learned, if not; then the mind is unprotected and your thoughts can be heard. In a battle, the enemy may take advantage of this fact and could control your body."

"Others can hear my thoughts?" Eragon asked, suddenly feeling cold under the afternoon sun.

The old man nodded, "They can, but that leaves them open for attack. Most prefer to keep their own thoughts secure rather than trying to hear what other people think."

"How do I learn the defense?" asked Eragon quickly.

Another hour went by and Eragon still struggled with his _wall_. It was strenuous work, everytime he thought he had an image fixed and unwavering, Magister Cognitios broke through it like paper.

"Focus only on the image of the table, preferably the top of it, the more complex the image is, the harder it is to hold it." said the old man, as he receded back from the panting boy's mind.

The apprentice nodded, and straightened up again. His eyes glazed over and he motioned with his hand to commence the attack. Once more, the master threw his mental lance, but instead was met with a solid wall of a young girl with blond hair and blue eyes. This time, Eragon held the defense for over two minutes, which was double the time agreed upon.

The man drew back from Eragon's mind, "That was very well done m'boy. Only an hour later and you are defending your mind well. That was your sister, wasn't she? The image is complex, Eragon. Try to keep it as simple as possible."

"Aye, she's Helen. I have been looking at that face for nine years, it's easier to hold than the table." answered Eragon.

The teacher nodded, accepting his logic. "I think it's time now that you learnt how to attack other minds. It's fairly simple, now that you understand where your consciousness is; you need to project it outwards and away from your being. Keep in mind that not all can do this, if you are unable to project your consciousness, immediately stop; otherwise the results tend to go...awry."

Eragon took a deep breath while closing his eyes gently, in the silence of his mind he searched for the part that felt the most connected to him. The part that was his core. From there, he imagined a tendril spreading out, feeling its way away from his centre.

Immediately he felt _open._ He was exposed.

He did feel other minds, but this feeling of openness was terrible and he instantly withdrew inside his mental walls. Trembling slightly, he opened his eyes; to look upon Magister Cognitios' smiling face. "It was executed very well Eragon, not many are able to project their consciousness the very first time they try it. Worry not about the vastness that you feel, it's overwhelming at first but soon that feeling fades away." the man said supportively.

"I wish to try it again" said Eragon, his voice still quivering.

And so passed another hour.

"Alright Eragon, that will be enough. Let's move onto gramarye, or more popularly known as magic." came the man's voice. Eragon moved his hand over the table and turned his palm upwards, facing the ceiling as motioned by the teacher. The old man dropped a round pebble onto it and said, "Look deep into your mind, if you feel a door barring a path, then try to break through it. Say the words _stenr risa._ If not, then tell me so. As I said, not everyone can wield magic; however King Galbatorix insists that you have magic in your veins."

Eragon nodded understandingly. Rolling the stone around in his palm, Eragon looked at it, trying to memorize its features. He searched inside his mind, looking for anything that was a hindrance and came up with none. Still, he quietly muttered the words, "Stenr risa."

The pebble stared back at him unashamedly.

"What are those words supposed to do?" questioned Eragon.

"With enough magic and will, saying those words will make the pebble hover above your palm." Magister Cognitios replied, slowly picking up a book from the table between them and flicking through the pages. "don't let this old man while away your time, lad."

A couple of hours later and the stone still hadn't moved an inch. Eragon was getting increasingly frustrated as time passed by. Magister Cognitios was still engrossed in his book, and hadn't even looked up; not even when Eragon's frantic voice was consistently notching up an octave after every failed attempt. Eragon looked out of the window to see the sun had already set, it was _evening_ now.

This was pitiful; he had spent all afternoon only somewhat learning about mental powers and couldn't make a stupid pebble move!

Infuriated beyond reasoning, Eragon dug deep into his mind, found a door, tore it open and suddenly felt as if streams of cold water and hot water were alternatively flowing through him. It was tantalizing and calming in equal measure. It made him want to run about and yet sit still. Feeling light-headed, he licked his lips, "Stenr risa." he all but screamed and instantly the pebble on his palm flew up towards the ceiling.

And pierced it completely.

A pebble-shaped hole in the ceiling of the royal library.

" _There's that moment between action and consequence, eternal and fleeting. It's when whatever you did has occurred but the reaction is yet to come. The seed of embarrassment gets wedged inside you ready to blossom red upon your cheeks."_ Eragon recalled Rose's words as he stood there mortified at his actions, they couldn't have been truer.

What was he supposed to do now? An orphan like him had ruined the _royal_ library!

He turned towards his teacher, also the head of this very library; an apology already on his lips.

But the old man was standing straight up and looking at the ceiling with his mouth wide open, transfixed on the spot. If Eragon didn't know better, he would have decided that the man was gawking at the hole. His wide eyes travelled towards Eragon, or more specifically, towards his neck. Eragon looked down to see his markings had appeared once again.

"What is this? How did you do it lad? And how in the name of God are you still standing?" asked the old man, his voice filled with disbelief. The man's face had lost its mummified character, his eyes filled with bewilderment; constantly flickering between the hole and the boy.

Eragon let out a small sigh, relieved that the man hadn't taken an offense to the hole he had put on the roof of the library "I just said the words you told me to do, and I feel perfectly fine. After my lesson with Lord Barst, I don't think anything can tire me now." he joked, trying to lighten the mood. "If you wish, I could repeat it again."

The old man looked at him for a full minute and then drew from the folds of his robes, another pebble, this one smoother than the previous one.

"Only if you are sure, Eragon. People tend to faint from exhaustion after their first success. However you seem to be…an exception."

Still grinning, Eragon confidently palmed the stone and muttered _stenr risa._ And the ceiling was embellished with another pebble-shaped hole.

The old man slowly dropped back onto his chair, a look of absolute befuddlement on his face. "How? This much magical reserves in a human with no experience? What is this?" the man muttered more to himself than Eragon, his frail hand firmly clasped onto his forehead.

And after what seemed an eternity, the teacher leaned forward and said "Eragon it seems that we'll have to increase the intensity of our lessons, you may be the most gifted student I have ever taught and it is my wish that you learn everything I have to teach before the king requires your services."

Eragon inclined his head gratefully.

"As of now, we shall discuss the language required to control this magic and the rules that all magicians must follow, to break them means death or worse.

The language that dictates the magic to perform the required tasks is known as the Ancient Language. It is spoken by all the elves since their birth and is the only language in which they converse in. In the Ancient Language only truth maybe spoken and all vows sworn are unbreakable, to betray the promise means certain death. However, there are almost always loopholes in the framing of sentences in the Ancient Language.

The elves are masters at this; they speak something and mean something else, and hence the reason they are the strongest magicians in all the races."

"Why are they the strongest? Does finding loopholes increase the control over the language?" asked Eragon confusedly.

"Not quite m'boy, a magician is only as strong as their understanding and vocabulary of the Ancient Language. Since the elves speak the language ever since they can talk, this enhances their vocabulary as well as their perception of the language." answered Magister Cognitios. "Which is why human magicians and especially novices such as you must always dedicate time to learning the Ancient Language and improving their fluency in it."

* * *

It was dark when Eragon left the library with a scroll in hands. It was a _compendium;_ Magister Cognitios had said that this manuscript contained many words and spells in the ancient language listed out with their meanings and pronunciations. He was supposed to learn the words first. Three every day.

It had been a tremendous relief to his teacher that Eragon already knew how to read and write the common tongue, this particular fact had made their goals easier to achieve. The old man was sure that Eragon would be able to use the common spells within a month or two and the major ones within a half-year. But as of now, his main objective was to memorize the words with correct pronunciation and meaning and to practice them under the supervision of his teacher.

This led his thoughts to Helen. She was also supposed to be having her first lesson today. Probably already had. Deciding that he should visit Helen before dinner to talk about her experience, Eragon hurried towards his room, unlocked the door and set the scroll on his study table. Looking at his exhausted reflection in the mirror, he jogged up to his already prepared bath and staggered to a halt, still not used to his enhanced body. Quickly washing off the grim from the morning lesson, Eragon stood up and thoroughly dried himself before choosing a blue tunic paired with black leggings. Running a hand through his hair in an effort to tame them, he proceeded to march out of the doorway and stand in front of the door immediately to his left.

With a grin on his face, he knocked twice. The door opened slowly and a tiny blonde head poked out, then their eyes met and the girl threw open the door with a squeal, "Eragon!"

He barely had time to prepare himself before he was squeezed to death by hands wrapped around his waist. "Oomph- Helen! How was your first lesson?" he asked, ruffling her hair.

With a cry of delight the little girl dragged him into her room, it was exactly like his. With a map of Alagaesia, three huge windows, wooden wardrobes, a huge bed and steaming bath. With one exception.

His room didn't have a she-elf standing next to the study table, her arms folded amongst themselves and orbs like deep forest pools following both the siblings attentively.

Her eyes glittered in the light of the candleholder as she cocked her head to the side when both the children stood in front of her, not really knowing how to proceed, Eragon settled on "Good Evening" and was graced with a nod in return.

With a proud smile on her face, Helen raised her hand towards Arya, her tiny palm wide open as she silently asked for something. She was rewarded with an exasperated sigh and a pebble was gently placed on her palm, "You shouldn't be doing it now. Last time I had to give you energy else you would have fainted." reprimanded the elf, her thin fingers pinching the bridge of her nose.

"But it will be fun!" exclaimed Helen. With her tiny blue dragon screeching in agreement, Eragon turned his head towards where it lay on her bed and swore to himself that its size had increased at least two-fold. Its tail had definitely not been as long as his forearm and now its wings actually looked the part instead of some excess skin.

He smiled widely at the dragon as its head turned towards the onlooker, and the dragon now crooned back at him enthusiastically.

Meanwhile Helen had stilled all movement, including her breath, her mouth was firmly clasped and her brow was marred with a frown. Her determined blue eyes were fixed on the pebble that lay on her palm, with a shout of _Stenr Risa_ that filled the entire room and was probably heard through all of Urubaen, the pebble hovered over Helen's pinkish palm, wobbling in the air.

Her face red with exertion, the little girl turned towards the older sibling, "Do you see Eragon? I can do magic!" her voice coming out in short breaths as the young magician was still panting due to the effort. Fondly patting her back, Eragon crouched down "That's amazing Helly. Now you can build your own castle." Giggling joyfully at the prospect, Helen allowed the pebble to fall back on her palm.

"How was your lesson Eragon? Did you also learn magic?" she cheerfully asked.

"A bit. I also had to learn how to use a sword." admitted Eragon.

"Just like the princes?" asked the girl excitedly. Eragon chuckled in response, Gods knew that the child thought of her stories of handsome princes and beautiful princesses to be true to the very last letter.

"No, like a soldier." answered Eragon.

Her face deflated for a moment, before that eager face was back on. "Can you do Magic? Arya told me that only few humans can. But, did you know that all elves and dragon riders know Magic? I wish you were a dragon rider too Eragon, it would have been ever more fun!" she gushed waving her arms about energetically.

It wasn't the first time he wondered how such a small thing could contain so much energy, it wasn't even her best day today. Sometimes, she would go on talking for hours and would still refuse to go to bed, continuing her lively chatter. It was one of the endearing things about his sister, she would always say such innocent things it made everyone want to converse with her.

"I can." he nodded, grinning slightly at her elated expression.

She held out her closed palm towards him, "Go on Eragon, make the stone float."

His eyes shot up to the ceiling. It was beautiful. "Um…I don't think I should Helly." said Eragon, scratching the back of his head with a small smile at his lips.

Helen pouted, "But why not? It will be fun Eragon, please! Everyone is waiting for you." She waved her hand across the room to emphasize the point. Which was true enough, for some reason the elf was looking at him with one of her eyebrows arched and the dragon was nearly at the edge of the bed, its head bobbing between the pebble and his face.

"Really Helen, it isn't much. I am also tired so why don't we go for dinner first and tomorrow I'll make the pebble float." pleaded Eragon, he really didn't want to embarrass himself in the presence of the elf.

Helen's only response was a "humph" and she turned her face away from Eragon, still standing on the same spot as before.

This was stupid. Eragon had no intention of putting another hole through another ceiling. It was mortifying. Not being able to make the pebble hover as it was supposed to, but make it fly into heaven knows where. But his sister didn't seem to understand his humiliation, and was begging-no, ordering- him to make the stone fly! That too in front of the she-elf! What if the king came to know? But no! Apparently his sister was using his weakness against him, she very well knew Eragon wouldn't deny her anything if she just stood rooted to her spot. This ploy had been used against him over a dozen times now, and he knew he might as well do the act of shame because Helen wouldn't be budging anytime soon.

With a sigh of acceptance, he stood "Alright, I'll do it."

Instantly the sister's demeanor changed, "Oh that's wonderful, Eragon!" she quickly handed him the pebble and took a step back, looking at him with keen eyes.

Eragon took one last desperate attempt to save his face, directing his question to Arya, "Can you make the stone stop immediately after I make it hover?" he asked.

Arya's other eyebrow joined the first, high in her brow. "The entire purpose of this exercise is to maintain the stone into the air for as long as possible." came her exotic voice, as if explaining the complexities of this universe to a child.

Eragon even felt more idiotic than before. Before anyone could comment on the blood that had colored his ears, he muttered _stenr risa_. And the spectacle that Eragon had dreaded occurred once again, the beautiful blue ceiling had a hole. A pebble-shaped hole.

And now both of his fellow magicians looked at the ceiling with faces of wonder, the same look he had seen two times already on Magister Cognitios' face. Simultaneously, they turned their heads to look at him. The blue orbs filled with glee, and the green ones with disbelief.

"How did you do that?" rang the all too familiar question. This time spoken by the elf. Eragon looked at her and was once again struck by the other-worldliness that was associated with her. She wore her usual attire; leggings and a jerkin. Though this time a sword in a green sheath hung at her tiny waist. Her obsidian-black hair plunged over her shoulders and brought out the brilliance in her exquisite eyes.

But, then again, Eragon just didn't feel calm before her, he always felt on the edge, it was as if he had an itch he couldn't place his finger on. It was disconcerting and Eragon disliked it.

Trying not to look into her eyes, he gave his usual answer, "I don't know…it just happens. Magister Cognitios seems to think it's a good thing."

Her eyes, like everyone else's darted towards his neck. Eragon didn't even need to look down to know that his markings had appeared, feeling a bit self-conscious, he tugged upwards at his tunic. Immediately, her eyes traveled up to meet his, "Apologies." she murmured.

"It's alright. I am used to it now." he muttered. Feeling awkward at the silence that just seemed to continue, with Helen still gawking at the hole and the elf scrutinizing him, Eragon walked up to the baby dragon, who had been crooning for attention and started scratching its underbelly cautiously, he was rewarded with the dragon putting its entire weight on his palm and letting out a content growl.

Finally, after considerable staring, Arya broke the silence, "It's time for dinner."

* * *

A/N: And I am back:)

Sorry this chapter took so long to write, I am trying to go for weekly updates but its hard since I am more of an inspiration driven writer.

Once again, super grateful to all of you who reviewed/followed/favorited my story.

REVIEWS:

 **SappySoulTaker: brilliant.**

Thanks xD

 **Angvard Of Suburbia :** **Hello again, and nice chapter:D**

 **I really liked the training session, and (I know it's badLord Barst. I can definitely see why the soldiers respect him\o/, he's violent and heartless, but still inspires people to do their best.**  
 **I like the way you describe Galby too. In the book we hear a lot about how charismatic and friendly he can act, but the only time we get a glimpse of it, is Nasuadas torturing, and well it's mostly torture. Hopefully we'll see the psycho side too:P**

haha thanks. Writing out the training session was tough, it feels good to be appreciated for the hard work. As for Galbatorix, I'll definitely make sure that his title 'the mad king' is properly justified.

 **MichaelL01: great I like this and can't wait for more never give up! I read your response and with this new chapter I really warmed up to him not being a rider I just feel you wrote this chapter perfectly and looks like eragon has quite the work ahead if him hope to see his powers soon and maybe a challenge in his path your story is definitely orginal and I expect great things.**

Thanks. Glad to hear that you liked the chapter and warmed up to Eragon being just human. That really does put a feather on my writing cap:)

And Eragon's power will start to manifest pretty soon, I already have a battle-scene planned out ;)

 **Elemental Dragon Slayer:** **Ah so Arya is enslaved by her true name. She seems to be... very less willful than I would have expected. I'd thought she'd often be testing Galby's patience, anger etc. Unless we're assuming she was like this at first before being subdued by his punishments for such behavious over time. And Eragon is already a name slave too but that's to be expected.**

 **Hopefully you'll start to develop Eragon/Arya's relationship (the beginning's of it rather) soon as Eragon develops!**

**Good stuff, keep it up. I like Barst's character already: sounds like the pious subject of Galby as he is in the books.**

I never said that ;) Your exact question(s) was _Has Galby found her true name and enslaved her? Or will we just have to find out later?_

and I replied by _you already guessed it_ ; I didn't specify which question xD

As for Eragon/Arya, it will begin as soon as Eragon completes his training. Glad you liked Barst, I added him so that it gave me more freedom to write, well-written characters in the books leave little room for experimentation.

 **kiwisniper :This is great I am hoping to see the back story of Arya play out soon. Also will their be romance between E &A? **

Thanks for reviewing. Both, Arya's backstory and the romance will begin after Eragon completes the training.

 **Mad hatter:** **Wow, this is off to a great start. I was always on the fence when stories on this site don't make Eragon a Rider right away, but I'm really warming up to this story. I do hope you continue to have Barst break Eragon's body/spirit and do a slow build with Eragon gaining god like powers. Awesome job so far and I can't wait to read more!**

Haha glad you liked this concept. Training with Barst will continue and the entire process of Eragon gaining insane powers will be written. Thanks for reviewing!

 **Haldir639:** **This is a really interesting fic, though I was expecting you to use Formora or another Forsworn instead of Arya. It's always nice to see rarely-touched characters like Barst expanded on.**

 **I'm eagerly awaiting the next chapter!**

Damn! I never really thought of female forsworn, that would have been unique. Your idea really incites the mind and I will probably add Formora as a romantic interest in another Eragon story I have thought of. Tho it will take quite a while:)

 **Squidoverlord:** **Very good. I look forward to additions.**

Thanks. Keep reading, keep reviewing!

* * *

 **I have a question for you guys and would really appreciate it if you could take out some time to answer it- Is the length of my chapters suitable, because they touch almost 4k words and sometimes I feel that it might be bit of a bore for you. Do tell me if I need to shorten the length of the chapters or are they fine as they are?**

That's all for now! Do continue to show your support

Until the next update


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: The only thing I own is my imagination.**

* * *

Eragon sat on his chair alongside Helen in an unknown vast room. Apparently it was the king's study. And as is only right, the owner sat on a high backed armchair, facing the siblings. The king, his rider and his vassal sat facing each other in what appeared to be triangle. To Eragon's left was Helen while on his right sat the Ruler of Alagaesia.

It was evening, when the king had summoned for him. Thankfully, his morning lessons with Lord Barst had been somewhat less intense at the king's royal behest, as he had decided it was time for their first ever lesson in general politics.

The room was filled with light emitted by the setting sun, on the walls hung oil paintings of open meadows, cascading waterfalls and sunny beaches. Far too bright a hall for such a grim topic, Eragon thought, his eyes drifting to the girl animatedly talking to the amused king.

Catching his eye, the king cleared his throat, his obsidian eyes now solely resting on him. There was nothing in between the three of them, no table, nothing. Nothing to hide his fidgeting fingers underneath. The king began in a rich, warm voice, "The first thing I want to say is that this arrangement isn't a lesson. It's a _discussion._ We three can discuss everything under the sun if you wish so. Nothing is out of bounds. I may share my problems and you may share yours. This precious time is meant to be spent exchanging ideas and beliefs so that all inside this room may improve their selves. Usually our topics will range from court politics to philosophy of war to the plans I have about the future of Alagaesia."

Eragon shifted on his seat, looking at Helen's blank face. They were orphans, what possible input could they provide? The king wanted a dialogue, they had nothing to say.

"You don't need to provide factual information, just speak your mind on the topics we discuss. Both of you must have some experience or thoughts on certain topics, just speak from your heart." the king stated, as if he had read their minds.

Eragon flinched slightly, realizing the king probably had. Immediately he strengthened the walls protecting his mind. The king's ever present smile became wider.

"To make it easier, I shall begin by posing a question to both of you, _what is power_?" asked the king.

"Strength" came Helen's immediate reply.

The king turned his eyes towards him, those obsidian orbs curious to see him present his answer.

"It is the ability to obtain whatever you wish for." answered Eragon slowly.

The king chuckled, "That, is merely the definition of strength. No. What you both describe is simply what you assume it to be. It is but a mere shadow of the word. Mastering others is strength; mastering yourself is power. They go hand-in-hand; just like the flame and the shadow. But, to think they are the same is naivety." He took a deep breath and a long silence followed, both the children absorbing what they had heard.

"Strength is the offspring of power, not power itself. It's the scabbard; not the sword. Strength allows you to overcome the limitations this world imposes on you, Power allows you to overcome the limitations you set upon yourself. "

"They say that power corrupts. I say, it isn't power but strength. It's the fear of losing strength, the fear of losing dominance over others that corrupts. But if you have power, then you cannot be corrupted, because power requires sacrifice. You must unravel your very own self to obtain true power, you must face your demons to understand the very concept of what makes you what you are. And how can someone who has stood on the very brink of illusions and reality, someone who understands themselves perfectly be swayed by such meaningless fantasies? No, these are lies spun by worthless men to blind others as they themselves fear the price that power demands. It is only the worthy that achieve power, not the strong."

The king carefully looked at the two, trying to judge if their minds had kept pace with his. Seemingly satisfied, he turned towards the small wooden table at his left and poured himself wine from the dragon-necked decanter.

While the king calmly sipped his drink, Eragon thought over what the king had said. He knew not if the words had been true, but the king's perspective of strength held much weight in his mind. He had seen his fare share of drunken city guards beating market vendors for their sick pleasure. A glance at his left revealed the blonde girl with a frown on her face and biting her lips, no doubt contemplating the king's words.

"We have talked of power in terms of caliber. But, _political_ power is different. Much different. It is rarely based on merit, and more on position. It isn't about your worthiness, it is about which family you were born into or what your station is. There are some who reach political prominence by the strength of their limbs or the keenness of their minds. But they are few; and more dangerous. Since, this power is more likely based on luck; it leads me to my next question. Who is fortunate to wield this power?" asked the king as he swirled the contents of his goblet.

On not getting a reply, he looked up at the siblings.

Eragon was completely confused. While he did understand the meaning of the words, he failed to grasp the essence. What did the king mean by political power? Why was it so different from true power? If his earlier words held true, then wouldn't the worthy man always hold a higher position regardless of his family? As Eragon continued to ponder over the king's words, King Galbatorix spoke again, "Allow me to pose a simpler question, it's a riddle.

In a room sit three great men, a king, a priest, and a rich man with his gold. Between them stands a sellsword, a little man of common birth and no great mind. Each of the great ones bids him slay the other two. 'Do it,' says the king, 'for I am your lawful ruler.' 'Do it,' says the priest, 'for I command you in the name of the gods.' 'Do it,' says the rich man, 'and all this gold shall be yours.' So tell me – who lives and who dies?"

"The priest lives and the other two die." came Helen's immediate reply in a small voice.

"And why is that dear?" came the king's amused voice.

"The priest is a holy man, and it will be a sin to kill him or not follow the command of the gods, Ms. Margaret told me." answered Helen.

The king nodded smilingly, he turned towards Eragon, "And you, Eragon?"

"The king lives and the other two die." Said the boy.

"And why is that?" echoed the king, his voice holding no small amount of amusement.

"Because if the sellsword kills the king then that's treason of the highest order. He won't be able to escape to kingdom alive even with the gold and blessing of the gods. It's safest to follow the king's command." Said Eragon.

"But what about the priest Eragon? Killing a holy man is a sin, as Helen rightly said." Asked the king, his smile growing ever wider.

The boy shifted slightly in his chair, "If the sellsword has a family and doesn't follow the king's command, surely they will suffer. They might even be executed. And family is the most important thing in this world. It's the safety of his family or the priest, it maybe a sin but sins can be attoned. A dead person can't be revived. If he doesn't have a family then also he should follow the king's command, its easier to live with the king owing you a favour rather than as a fugitive." he answered with his head low.

The king chuckled, "You really think deeply, don't you Eragon? Anyhow they are not the correct answers, both of you have answered well but that is of little consequence. The prime objective of this riddle is not the answer, rather the concept behid it. Who holds power? If power truly lies with the men who carry swords, why do we pretend that kings hold the power? The _answer_ if you want to call it, is rather complex. Power resides where men believe it resides. No more and no less. It's a shadow on the wall, a small man may cause a large shadow and a large man may cause a small one. It isn't about having; it's about showing. This riddle essentially sums up the power struggle we are having in Alagaesia."

Looking at the children's puzzled faces, the king said, " The parallels are fairly easy to see. The sellsword symbolizes the people, that fickle mass of people over whom the claimants to the Throne of Alagaesia are fighting. They "sell" their loyalty to the highest bidder – that is, whoever offers them the most. They do so figuratively, through their loyal support of the ruler, and literally, serving as bannermen, paying taxes to the crown, and supporting the economy of the realm. The claimants are obvious. The Varden, Surda, Dwarves and most likely the Elves. And on the other side we have the Broddring Empire, the riders, the imperial army and me. We hold the throne but still struggle to rule. So how do we end all of this power struggle? Why of course, we bid the people to kill each other. But who will the people follow? Who will win this war? It is those who have the strength and cunning to make armies follow them to the very end."

"The soldier will serve whoever he thinks people around him will serve, so as to put himself on the winning side. People think other people will serve you, so people flock to you. It's a herd mentality. But in order to win over their hearts and minds, first you must demonstrate your power. Why is the Varden supported so heavily? We have dragons. We have better weapons. We outnumber them. So why? Why is the Varden, a group of mediocre men, supported by so many people in this Empire?

It is because people believe they can win, that they have some chance of ruling this land. It doesn't matter how big gamble it is, they believe they can win. And that's all an ordinary person needs, _belief._ Belief that he can defy the odds. And he has a good reason to do so, the Varden have already demonstrated their strength. Surda has defied us. They have killed several of my Forsworn. Their army grows larger everyday. Rumours spread that the mythical elves have joined their cause. You see? People are gamblers, and they gamble their lives to serve the Varden just because they _think_ they will win. They _believe_ that Varden have the power to overthrow me. Whether it is true or not, is an entirely different matter." The king took a deep breath after his rapid monologue.

"As one of you is a Dragon Rider and the other my only vassal, both of you hold powerful positions in the political hierarchy, but it is always wise to not make anymore enemies than strictly necessary. This isn't a defined system; it is an ever-changing labyrinth and you'll be wise to tread carefully. Though most nobles tend to leave you alone as both of you are directly under me, it will be beneficial for everyone that you both learn how to deal with them." said the king as he took another sip from his goblet.

"The foremost rule while dealing with such men is to stay out of their matters. Do not in any scenario attempt to uncover whatever plot they are hatching, most likely I already know what it is, but you should not at any cost interfere with their plans. It will only lead to further trouble and some unnecessary executions. In case they attempt to involve you in any of their overly ambitious schemes, try to back away as smoothly as possible, give out excuses related to military exercises; they tend to be unaware of them. If this isn't possible, talk to me as soon as possible, I shall take care of the matter."

"Another important point is to always show respect, most of all to those who don't deserve it. Speak politely at worst and flatteringly at best. The noblewomen tend to demand a few compliments on their dresses or beauty while the noblemen prefer to hear about their gold or feats in battles. Whichever the case maybe, try to keep the flattering sublime and the topic centered around them, if you are lucky you'll be able to take their leave fairly quickly; if not then try to involve another noble into your present conversation. Keep your replies as short as possible and try to give out minimum information regarding your activities. Your mind must be the sharpest of knives and your tongue the most soothing of balms, it's the easiest way to come out unscathed in this castle." said the king his eyes never leaving the two siblings; their faces perplexed as they tried to retain this rapid flow of instructions.

The king chuckled gently, "You are trying, that's good…very good. Now, we shall discuss the finer workings of your roles as my direct subordinates."

* * *

Eragon walked through the main market of Urubaen lazily, it was evening and yet the place was crowded. The king had thought it would be a good idea for him to visit the market place to observe people, little did he know that Eragon had spent the majority of his childhood in this very place. He knew which vendor cheated and which vendor sold a week old vegetables, he knew everything there was to know about this market. Still he strolled, his eyes wandering about. The market was full of brightly colored stalls selling everything one could possibly imagine: fruits, fishes, hand-made ornaments, spices, fabrics. His nose was filled with a strange mix of smells. As he walked past the fish stall, the air was filled with salty smell of the sea, Eragon imagined, he could almost taste the salt on his tongue. As he moved towards the spice stall, his nose was filled with exotic smells that made it itch and made him want to sneeze. The market sellers shouted at the top of their voices to attract the attention of potential customers. There were people everywhere, pushing and shoving. They yelled at each other to move out of their way and muttered under their breath about each other. They did not care about anyone else; they just focused on grabbing the bargains first. The shoppers carried enormous bulging jute-bags, already full to the brim with their purchases. There was no room to walk in-between the market stalls because the entire area was so full of people, Eragon had to barge his way through, carefully, his elven strength still a bit excess. He shouted at others ahead of him to move away just like everybody else, over all of the noise, he heard a stallholder shouting 'candyfloss' and he made his way towards him.

An hour later Eragon was climbing up the stairs of tower that lead to an open roof. Helen was there, or so the guard he was following had told him. Reaching the last of the stairs, the guard bowed and left; leaving Eragon alone as he opened the steel door with a low creak. He was greeted by Helen's usual ritual, a hug. And then her eyes fell on the candyfloss he had bought for her, she clapped her hands in delight and snatched the sugary wonder from his hands.

"Fank you, Ewagon." Helen said, her mouth full with candyfloss. He grinned back and ruffled her hair. Now that their daily practice had been completed, he looked up and his eyes almost fell out of his head, before them sat a dragon. No, _the dragon._ It was Arya's and she sat on its foreleg as the pair observed the siblings carefully. Helen's dragon was busy trying to gnaw at the dragon's paw. Eragon, with difficulty, looked around; they were on a huge roof surrounded by parapet made of stone. Then again, it had be huge, otherwise it wouldn't have accommodated Arya's dragon-Firnen- he mentally corrected himself. He was truly majestic, those emerald scales glinting in the evening sun as he aristocratically lifted his head at Eragon's approach, his amber eyes never leaving the boy's form.

When both the siblings stopped in front of the dragon and his rider, Eragon greeted Arya with a 'Good Evening' and this time got a reply back; unsure how to greet the dragon Eragon opened his mouth, but his mind was suddenly surrounded by a presence. Panicking, he immediately threw up his walls and focused on the picture of Helen's face, but strangely the presence didn't try to breach his walls, it merely enveloped him, gently pushing at his mind. After a minute, Eragon let out a tendril of thought and was amazed at the mind that was outside his walls. It was _vast._ It was like the sea and Eragon's mind a tiny boat, slowly the mind withdrew until Eragon could barely sense it, and then came a voice, " _Greetings two-legs-round-ears. I am Firnen, bonded to partner of my mind and heart, Arya. You must be Eragon, hatchling-Helen speaks of you frequently_."

Eragon's mind all but shook, he had used his mind to communicate only once, today with Magister Cognitios, but this was something else. While the man's mental voice had been plain, Firnen's voice was deep and his mind displayed several emotions. It is the mind of a dragon, not a man. Eragon reasoned.

" _That is true_." Came the deep voice, this time pride radiating in it. Eragon mentally flinched, he needed to be careful with his thoughts.

" _I am Eragon. Pleased to make your acquaintance_." Replied Eragon, still trying to comprehend the complexity of a dragon's mind.

" _Likewise_." said Firnen, as he blew a warm breath over Eragon's head, ruffling his hair.

Eragon stood transfixed on his spot, not moving a muscle as his eyes roamed over the dragon, Firnen was the very picture of regalness. He sat elegantly, his wide wings folded to form a cascade of forest green, the spikes were white-ish that rested on his back like the first snow on meadows, his face adorned with light green scales that framed his intelligent golden eyes.

A screech caused Eragon to break away from his awestruck state. He looked down to see the blue dragon looking at him with sapphire-like eyes, demanding equal attention, with a grin he kneeled down and scratched the underside of its chin and was rewarded with a pleased growl.

" I hope I am not interrupting your lesson, I just had to give the candyfloss to Helen, it melts if kept too long." Eragon offered an explanation to his appearance, his sardonyx eyes meeting emerald ones.

The elf shook her head, "We were finishing up."

Eragon nodded his understanding and stood up, brushing off imaginary dust from his kness, "I will see you both at dinner then." Throwing a smile at Firnen and the blue dragon, Eragon walked off.

* * *

A/N: How is everyone?

I hope all of you(those that watch GoT) caught onto Varys' riddle xD. I am a huge fan of Varys' character and decided it would be a good idea to put the riddle in this chapter.

REVIEWS:

 **SappySoulTaker: As opposed to Angvard, I'm actually hoping NOT to see The Galb's psycho side. Bad Varden for the win!**

haha. the psycho won't be coming this early in the story, but eventually it will have to, how else can Eragon be the savior ;)

 **Haldir639: I liked this chapter as well. Cognitios is quite clearly either kinder or more conniving than Barst, and considering how life in the heart of the Empire is hinted to be akin to a pit of snakes, I'm kind of leaning toward the later. Still, if he's genuinely kind there's still plenty of room for interesting plot to happen.**

 **As for the Forsworn, if you want to include them you could have one of them defect from Galbatorix or rule a distant part of the Empire in his name, off on an expedition to the south, north or east of the mapped Alagaesia...**

 **I'll definitely read the other story, I'm a ho for fully fleshed-out Wyrdfell.**

 **I noticed how you skirted around the subject of whether Arya is bound by her Name when answering reviews, and there is a tumblr account dedicated to Inheritance Cycle headcanons that has a post quite pertinent to that - the OP discussed an AU where Arya was never rescued from Gil'ead, was brought to Uru'baen and had Firnen hatch for her there, after which she basically took over the part Murtagh had in the canon as Galbatorix' hitman (hitwoman? hitelf?). If this story is going to deal a lot with the Elves, there's some interesting headcanons there if you feel you need some inspiration.**

Thanks a ton man!(or girl, whichever you are) The headcanon account in Tumblr does have some quite interesting ideas. As for Forsworn ruling a distant land, that will kinda stretch the story; I think this story without any other add-ons will touch roughly 40 chapters... Cognitios won't be a schemer, he's just kind. I didn't wanna make it like GoT because I don't think I'll be able to write out political tactics that well. Also, I wanted to show that you're not bad if you are with the bad guys. 'A single tree doesn't make an entire forest' that was the concept behind the previous chapter. Do continue to review the story or give any other ideas/advice you may have :)

 **PhantomLemur3: I personally like the way you didn't make Eragon the bumbling fool that he was in the book. Some of the thing he said and did in the book really made me want to cringe. The fact that you made Eragon as powerful as he is already, adds that bit of excitement and mystery to your story. You're definitely on the way to making one of the best IC stories. Keep up the good work.**

Thanks! I too didn't like the way Eragon acted in some scenarios eg. Eldest- proposing Arya. As a reader it just made you wanna skip over the paras to save yourself from being part of Eragon's embarrassing behavior. Keep reading, one battle scene coming up ;)

 **MichaelL01:** **no chapters are good size I wish for more though that would be greedy good chapter only i hate fluff and am impatiance I ask for someone to fight are at least a fireball or two soon you know what i mean but if you have a plan stick with it good work it is not you it is me in that regard I guess a good story just takes time till next time**

I try to write but sometimes it's just hard. Particularly with the FIFA WC going on, I just couldn't find the will to sit down and write out some good content. Don't worry tho I'll try to give weekly updates.

 **Brotherhood of the Grim:** **Please for the love of all that is holy don't make shorter chapters. Nothing is more annoying than tiny chapters, they're just so unsatisfying. On a positive note, this is my favorite ah version of IC, I'm really liking the whole dynamic going on. Keep up the good work.**

I'll try my best, I am an underwriter tho :) Writing a chapter takes me at least 4-5 days. I do my best to not majorly deviate from the character's personality, even tho it is an AU story. Keep reviewing!

 **kiwisniper:** **The length is great don't worry about it and keep up the good work.**

I do hope you'll like this chapter, it is a bit shorter compared to earlier ones. Thanks for taking out time to review.

 **Elemental Dragon Slayer:** **Nice chapter, curious to see how powerful Eragon goes. I'm assuming there'll be a time skip coming up in the next few chapters as you detail Eragon's training?**

This time you really did guess correctly ;) Next chapter will be a time skip, and Eragon will have major boosts as the story progresses. Yesterday I started reading your story, and it really is an example of what an immersive AU should be like. And I can't believe you were there when Unrivaled Mind published her story! Its been 6 years!

 **Angvard Of Suburbia:** **Good job, again. Don't worry, your chapters are in no way to long, the more the better. When that's said, you don't need to write faster, or longer chaps, as long you keep the quality on the top level**

Thanks :) your review really helped. I just couldn't find the time to write this chapter so I took it slow. From now on I'll make a schedule for writing content.

 **FirstThaumaturgy:** **I look forward to more good chapters**

Thanks :) Keep reading, keep reviewing!

 **Blue Dragon's Rider :** **It is really intresting**

 **I would like to see more of Helen and...Saphira i guess, but probably you will be more focused on Eragon's story, still it is his path, not her. I am not saying that i won't like it, just saying what i would prefer. Good chapter, like always.**

There will be Helen and Saphira, but they'll mostly be in the background. Thanks for the compliment, its always nice knowing people actually think about your work.

* * *

A/N: Once again super grateful to all those who reviewed/favorited/followed this story. Believe me when I say reading your reviews makes me want to scream in joy. Sometimes I read reviews again and again lol. But then again, every fanfic writer is a review junkie.

Do continue to show your support.

Until the next update!


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: The only thing I own is my imagination.**

* * *

 **Timeskip: 2 years**

"You are improving," Lord Barst said. And then he hammered the hilt of his sword into Eragon's stomach and sent his student sprawling. Doubled over from the sudden departure of breath from his body, Eragon managed to wheeze out a pained gasp before the blade returned, this time point first. He was forced to roll to the side to avoid being impaled to the ground. Eragon winced. This brought back memories of their previous lesson, when it did impale him to the ground.

As he recovered from his roll, the apprentice lashed out with his sword in a wide, sweeping motion, aiming for the man's plated legs. It was a lightning-quick strike, the best he had produced so far. Against a normal foe, the black blade would have carved through both limbs in a burst of blood, and left his opponent squirming and clutching two red stumps. But Lord Barst was no mere human, as the blade came for his legs, the man raised a single foot and stomped down. His timing was impeccable, the armored boot smashed against the sword's smooth surface and pinned it into the stone floor.

Eragon gave a grunt of surprise as his weapon was jolted from his grasp. In a fluid movement that belied his own massive bulk, Barst swept his own sword upwards, singing for Eragon's head. The student hurled himself backwards, cursing in Dwarven tongue. The long hours he had spent training under his hellish master's tutelage had done much to improve reflexes, but still it was not enough. Barst was impossibly fast. The tip of his blade caught the left side of the boy's face, drawing a thin red line up his cheek. The pain was raw,burning sensation, and Eragon had to bite his lips to keep from crying out.

He staggered back, his hand automatically moving to clutch at his wound. "But you are still far from being acceptable," Barst said as he effortlessly swatted away Eragon's other sword.

Irritated slightly, Eragon started to batter down his teacher, hoping his elven strength would provide him with the advantage he desperately needed. However, Lord Barst crushed the thought by ducking under an over-extended swing at his head and bringing his fist up as he rose. The student was sent flying back.

"Do I even want to know what you deem as acceptable?" he said as he shakily rose to his feat, now both of his swords on the ground.

"No," replied Barst.

"Bastard," the student grumbled beneath his breath.

"I heard that," Barst responded, though he sounded more amused than angry, "Do be careful with your words, boy, less I think you are unappreciative of the teachings I give you."

"Oh yes," he quipped, "How can I be unappreciative of a man-like monstrosity whose idea of training is to think up of as many ways as possible to bleed me dry."

"Your sarcasm needs work, just like your swordsmanship," Eragon gritted his teeth when the target of his scorn seemed utterly unaffected, "But even you must admit, it has been effective, this method of instruction. You are faster now. More agile. And you have learned to be cunning in your strikes. You are a different person than before, Eragon, in body and spirit."

The said man did not reply for Barst's words rang true. Instead, he traced the thin gash along his cheek, flinching at the wetness that stained his fingertips. Barst saw this and chuckled.

"It is remarkable how our human body works. Every inch of skin let you discern hot from cold, smooth from rough, and so much more. But most importantly, they let you feel pain," Barst planted his sword into the floor and stood over it, gauntlets clasped on the pommel, "Pain motivates the body. Your physique will start to develop differently when agony is constantly applied. Your senses will alert you faster once they taste true pain. Your limbs will do their utmost to avoid it. Your body will fight harder, react sooner, and move faster. All because it does not wish to feel pain."

"It is similar to gold in a way. The more you heat gold; the purer it becomes." with that his teacher departed, sheathing his sword as he made his way out of their underground training room.

Oh how true his words rang. Eragon had been all but set ablaze in this metaphorical fire, there had not been a single day when his bones hadn't been broken, when his blood hadn't been spilt, when he hadn't felt as if his organs had been burnt. It was healing magic and his elf-like body that had kept him alive, otherwise he would have been dead before the end of their first week of training. While Eragon still complained, he was grateful towards Lord Barst, the man was very effective as a teacher.

Though Eragon saw him more like an elder brother.

Granted he was merciless in his instruction and didn't hesitate to make him bleed but the man would often help him with the nobles and wardrobe troubles. He would also peacefully listen to Helen's chatter and would usually reply in grunts or singular sentences. Needless to say, his vocablury outside training was very limited. This worked for Eragon, and soon their relationship had evolved into a more unformal one.

Eragon sighed as he stretched his back and walked over to his fallen swords.

The first was _kveykva_ , its pommel was tear-drop shaped, set with an amethyst the size of a small egg. The hilt was wrapped with silver wire. The blade itself was purple with shades of white, while its sheath was magenta in color. Both the blade and sheath were marked with a symbol that was etched in black. This symbol was a glyph in the Liduen Kvaedhí, script of the Ancient Language, which translated as _lightning_ to match the Ancient Language name of his sword.

His other sword was _dwerva_ , it was similar to _kveykva_ but was obsidian black with a black diamond at its pommel. The scabbard was greyish-black and the glyph on both was embossed in white in Liduen Kvaedhí, which meant _night_.

They both were single handed Rider Swords, a gift from the king on his birth day. He had taken Eragon to his collection room which was filled with hundreds of colored swords, and made him choose whichever he felt best with. Then he had proceded to murmur at the chosen pair, and the required glyph had appeared on the previously unmarked swords. Eragon had named both of them after what they reminded him of. Needless to say, the swords were remarkable-unlike anything he had previously wielded- if swung with enough force they cut through armour like hot butter.

With a grin, Eragon sheathed both of his swords on his shoulders. Only a month into his training and Lord Barst had decided it was best for him to use a dual wielding fighting approach, as Eragon preferred to evade oncoming attack or slide them off using his sword rather than outright blocking them, so his shield arm was more-often-than-not a disadvantage. What made this approach even better was that Eragon was naturally ambidextrous and his elven strength wouldn't allow him to tire easily swinging two swords unlike normal swordsman, hence it made learning all the more easier.

With a muttered 'waíse heill' Eragon too exited the chamber.

* * *

As Eragon walked through the vast corridors, guards and passing soldiers hastily bowed low; their eyes looking down at their iron clad boots. He reciprocated with a nod here and a smile there, still marveling how people changed in mere years.

His first half of the year in this castle had been simple, most nobles and guards did not know him by face, only by his name. He had happily wandered the castle, the guards not giving him a second look, the nobles not even knowing he stood next to them. He had been a commoner in every way, visiting the orphanage monthly with Helen and returning back without earning a glance of dissaproval from the guards at the main gate. His life had been simpler back then- only lessons, books and swords. That blissful peace had ended on the king's birthday.

The king had formally announced him and Helen as his wards, in a party filled with nobles and generals of the army. The very next day every guard had bowed in his presence, every noble had disrupted his lessons, every general had words of praise for him. And Helen.

Now they suddenly held importance, no longer could he walk the hallways without whispers about him. No longer could he enjoy the garden without dainty fingers pointing at him. No longer could he visit the orphange without guards holding back what seemed like half of Urubaen. Every word he uttered suddenly held weight, his every action was observed, his every step was followed upon. His life was now a juggle between training and politics.

He came upon the familiar gold door which led to the throneroom. The two guards bowed and hastily opened the door for him as he walked in, his armoured boots clanking along the floor. When he stood in front of the seated king, he kneeeled and bowed his head, "You summoned for me, lord?" he said, his voice now deeper than two years ago.

"Aye, I did Eragon." said the king as he motioned for the man to stand up, his eyes delightedly scanning Eragon. After two years of intense training and nutritious meals, he had shot up atleast half a foot more with a strong built that was accentuated by his dwarwen-made armour. He now stood proudly, his shaven face more angular with the same untamable brown hair and those sardonyx eyes filled with undeniable confidence. No longer was he the orphan, now he was the vassal.

The king looked proudly at his ward, the boy was only 19 but was everything the perfect warrior should be; he was calm in the face of danger, cunning in his strategies, ruthless in execution, devastating in magic, overwhelming in the mind arts and deadly with his blades.

All in the span of two years. He was a prodigy among prodigies. An inferno among candles. Gold among pebbles. A sword among sticks. And a _dragon_ among men.

But the boy still lacked something essential to ensure victory.

Experience.

He had only been sent in few skirmishes to make him understand the flow of battle, but major assignments still awaited. And he had a peculiar case just ready. But not now. Not when he had other public events coming up.

So he smiled and said, "Magister Cognitios has exempted you from today's lesson; he feels you should rest after yesterday's…incident."

Eragon winced mentally, he knew he shouldn't have let out more magic than necessary. It would have saved atleast half of the greenhouse, who knew 'brisingr' was this powerful? Then again, it was Saphira's taunt that was responsible for the ensuing chaos.

He nodded his understanding, and the king signaled his dismissal. As he walked out of the throne room he imagined the markings in his mind's eye and a glance downwards revealed that the marking had appeared. Grinning smugly, Eragon walked through the hallways, he had finally learned to control his markings; now they appeared at his will.

From what he and Magister Cognitios had been able to determine, the black markings appeared when Eragon was physically exhausted or needed more magical reserves. The moment these markings were activated in times of need, Eragon would feel a rush of magical energy thereby increasing his already inhumane reserves. Magister Cognitios had calculated that he roughly had enough magical reserves of his own to overpower atleast six elves in terms of magical energy.

But such blessings came with their own curses. Due to such a large amount of magical energy, Eragon had difficulty channeling it accurately and thus complex spells had often gone awry in the beginning. He had worked immensely on improving his control over the flow of magic but still had to be careful when casting spells that required more than a few incantations. For the most part, he stuck to simple spells and increased their potency by pumping in more energy than necessary.

Upon reaching his room, Eragon brought out the book on Alagaesian History stacked on his shelves and sat on his study table next to the window to pass time. He would have to wait till evening to talk with Helen. Looking out at the morning sun, Eragon turned away with a heavy sigh as he opened his book.

* * *

Eragon stood at the top of the roof of a tower as the the evening sun set. His head was turned up towards the heavens as his unwavering eyes lay fixed on specs of green and blue against the red sky. They moved towards him, growing bigger every second seemingly like blots of color on the red canvas, intent on covering out the entire plain. The blue speck suddenly put on a burst of speed and came hurtling down towards him, golden hair suddenly visible and Eragon's grin grew as he braced himself as the –now blue meteor was less than a league away from him.

Heavy flapping filled the air which was soon followed by a roar as the wind suddenly blew up, tousling his hair. It was shortly drowned by what seemed like thunder itself as the green dragon picked pace and the gale increased, furiously trying to toss Eragon along it's path; he bent his knees and put an arm over his eyes lest dirt fly into them and waited for the dragons to land with his head tucked into his other arm to prevent his hair being duck-like.

Eventually when two earth-jarring landings were made and the wind died down, he dared to look up from his shrunken state at the two colossus figures that towered over his infantile form. On his left was Saphira, Helen's dragon; her scales and eyes were the color of sapphires which seeemed to radiate even more intensely under the evening sun. Her talons and spikes on the neck, back and tail were bone-white which provided a beautiful contrast to the female dragon. She was slimmer in body and more elongated, holding most of her mass in those huge azure wings; her head was roughly triangular and possessed four cheek spines, slightly curved horns and forehead spines between her horns.

She was easily the most beautiful sight Eragon had ever seen, despite her sheer size. Only two years old, she must have been two houses tall and a house wide; looking down at Eragon with those deep cobalt eyes.

To his right stood Firnen, looking as majestic as ever, his wise amber eyes fixed on Eragon. What always astonished Eragon was the male's dragon enormousness, Firnen was a behemoth and Eragon an ant. Standing before him always humbled Eragon, physically and mentally.

' _Then again, he's a dragon_ ' he thought wryly.

His attention was drawn to a soft _thud_ as a blond girl jumped from Saphira's foreleg, her hands deftly opening the knot her hair had been tied onto. Helen. With a wide grin on her face she shouted, " You should have joined us Eragon! The sky looked beautiful today." Saphira growled her agreement.

Eragon shook his head, "It isn't my place to ride a dragon."

The girl rolled her blue eyes at his customary response. She too had shot up in height, and now looked like a 14 year old girl instead of merely 11; he smiled at the memories, Helen already was an accomplished spell caster, creating clever spells that required small amounts of energy. She was skilled in unarmed combat but still lacked the knowledge to use a sword, which was made conspicuous by her vacant belted tunic.

His attention was again demanded by the she-elf that had just landed and was walking towards the pair. Her raven black hair elegantly swinging to and fro, and those verdant eyes glimmering under the setting sun. She, like Helen, wore soft tunic with black leggings and wore the rider sword _Tamerlein_ at her waist. It was green in color, the same shade as Firnen's hue.

When Arya finally stood in front of them, Eragon touched his first two fingers to the lips and murmured, " _Atra esterní ono thelduin"_

" _Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr_ " said Arya, repeating the finger gesture.

" _Un du evarínya ono varda"_ he concluded the elven greeting.

This had been the custom between the two ever since Eragon had learnt Elven Etiquettes. She had been pleasantly surprised the first time he had used the greeting, and had hastily replied in kind. Ever since then Eragon would begin the greeting, being lower in rank, and Arya would greet back. However, this was the most they would usually speak to each other as both were engaged in their lessons, one taught and the other learnt; this had left little time for interaction and Eragon could count the number of times they had conversed in one hand.

With a deep breath, he stepped slightly back; clearing his head and taking in the view before him. Picturesque sunset on a castle with two magnificent dragons before him.

Helen broke the ever-growing silence, "Thank you for the lesson, Ebrithil." her head bowed in Arya and Firnen's general direction with Saphira echoing Helen's words.

Firnen gave the equivalent of a mental nod and turned his huge head towards him, " _I hope you had pleasant hunting, Eragon_."

" _I did, Firnen. Are your students doing well?_ " said the man.

" _They are eager to learn, that is all that matters_." replied the dragon, his mind brushing against everyone present.

Another mind prodded at him, that of a dragon. Making his amusement known, Eragon responded " _You looked beautiful in flight Saphira_."

" _I know."_ the female dragon responded smugly, her face contorting to reveal two serrated fangs jutting out of her upper jaw to the lower lip.

" _Did you manage to kill that mute Lord?_ " she asked.

" _Not yet."_ he grinned up at her.

" _You two-legs and your pointy toys."_ the dragon snorted disdainfully.

Eragon laughed out loud.

"You didn't have lessons with Magister Cognitios." stated an exotic voice, cutting through his laughter.

Eragon looked at the elf, "No I didn't. He thought it was better I took some rest after yesterday's incident." his feet shuffling on the stone floor.

Saphira's laughter rang out in his mind, and he was sure she had opened her mind to others as well. _"I told you, nothing can compare to dragon fire."_ came her teasing voice. This time, Firnen joined in Saphira's laughter.

Feeling his ears go warm, Eragon rubbed the back of his neck trying to supress the memories of him burning half the greenhouse and the dissaproving stares he had received from the lady caretaker.

Thankfully, a guard came to his rescue. "The king requests the presence of Ladies Arya and Helen as well as that of Lord Eragon. He is in the Throne Room." said the guard. With a bow, he turned and hurried down the stairs.

" _The king demands your attention, Ebrithil and I will be in the dragonhold_." Saphira broadcasted her thoughts. With a hum, she leapt off the edge of the roof and glided off to the other side of the castle, Firnen behind her.

Eragon sat on the dining table to Helen's right whereas Helen was on the king's immediate right. To the king's immediate left was Arya. The three humans and the elf sat silently, eating dinner; as had been the routine for the last two years. Usually Lord Barst sat on the King's left but he had not been present this evening.

"Tomorrow is my birth date, as you may know." The king began without preamble, "And I take this opportunity to invite all three of you to the celebrations. The same rule as always, bring along a partner for the mandatory dance." his face beaming with delight.

Eragon supressed a groan. He passionately detested these formal parties. They were filled with nobles trying to sweet talk him, or with generals bragging about their non-existent victories. He had to always plaster a smile on his face and maintain an air of politness so as to not come across as impertinent to any of this pretentious lot.

He could manage Helen's birthday parties; the crowd was less and only officers of very high stations were invited, so as to keep things as pleasant as possible. Besides, Eragon wouldn't dare to miss his sister's party, she would never talk to him again if he did; but the king was another matter.

He had been fortunate enough to miss the first one that had been held only after a few months after his arrival because Lord Barst had taken him away from Urubaen for a more practical lesson in battle tactics. The second party had been a nightmare. Nobles trying to flatter the king, drunken generals trying to wrestle with him, and even more drunkards trying to strike a conversation with Arya. The party had begun in a grand fashion and slowly took a more chaotic route, with atleast half of the castle waking upto a pounding ache in their heads. What was more, he had to bring a partner to the dance!

Ah! So that's where Barst had gone. He must have gone to receive his wife from Gil'ead. She always came to attend Helen and the king's birthday parties. A sweet lady, she always had a kind word for everyone and Helen always sat with her and Arya during these occasions.

Eragon mentally cursed his teacher, the least he could have done was warn him of the danger that lay ahead; if not altogether save him from it!

This was going to be a monumental task, he had to again go through the acute embarrasement of asking someone for their time to accompany him to the king's celebrations. The only people who were exempt from this rule were those sitting before him; their faces showing nothing but pleasant acceptance. Arya and Helen.

Both weren't required to bring someone else for the obligtory dance. Helen was a child and Arya…she just didn't. The king didn't seem to mind. Arya usually spent the entire party in one corner with Helen and Lord Barst's wife, exchanging a word or two with the higher nobles.

" _Why am I not given this privilege?"_ Eragon lamented.

Now he had to waste an entire good day searching for someone to be his companion in this torture. Thank the heavens that the king held the festivities during night-time, atleast Eragon had some time.

"And Eragon, this time I won't accept your short stay in my party." the king said in an amused voice, his obsidian eyes twinkling in the candle light.

Great, now he couldn't even leave until the king expressively stated so, he had been lucky to do so the previous time.

Helen giggled slightly at the king's words as Eragon sulkily forked his vegetables. Ofcourse she enjoyed these gatherings, she was the apple of everyone's eyes. She would start a conversation with practically anyone and everyone in the party, and was always surrounded by scheming nobles and over enthusiastic ladies of the court trying to win her favour; not that the little girl understood.

It was one of Eragon's main worries. His sister was still too innocent. Granted she was 11, but she had to learn who meant her well and who meant her ill; he wouldn't allow Helen to be used by some cunning noble to achieve his ambitions. But alas, the king's lessons in politics had fallen on deaf ears. Helen took everything she heard as the truth and was easy to influence due to her sensitive personality. It was a good thing she was bonded to a dragon, and that too Saphira. While her rider maybe be too trusting and a bit careless with her words, Saphira was opposite in that aspect. The dragon was always wary of strangers and would not hesitate to read their minds if her instincts didn't agree with the person before her. She also was aware of her importance and had often asserted her dominance over nobles who had been foolish enough to think of her as a mere beast. The dragons had greater natural cunning and wisdom than all the other races of Alagaesia, and it was a constant source of relief for Eragon too see Saphira with Helen.

Before he knew it, the dinner was over and the group of three bade a goodnight to the king before dispersing towards their rooms.

* * *

A/N: Hello my lovely readers! I hope you liked this chapter:)

REVIEWS:

 **Squidoverlord:** **Super good, looking forward to seeing some EragonxArya3**

Thanks. You will be seeing EragonxArya..but after some time. The romance will start in due time and develop slowly.

 **PhantomLemur3: Wow! I love the philosophy in the chapter. It really gives it this depth that you don't find in most fanfics. You have once again amazed me.**

Glad you liked it. I really didn't think I would be able to write a decent 'philosophical' chapter, and was waiting for atleast 1 review(if not more) stating that the chapter was sub par xD

 **Elemental Dragon Slayer :** **Hmm, I liked this chapter a lot. The way you portrayed Galby's thinking and his way of getting Eragon and Helen to think was quite novel actually. Very well done indeed! Keep up the good stuff :) Hopefully Arya will get a little more story time or interaction with Eragon soon?**

 **And thanks, I'm hoping to get back into my story. My next chapter's 50% done so hopefully I'll have it out soon. Also yeah, I knew Unrivaled Mind quite well actually. Still do, we keep in touch chatting etc. Shame she can't finish her stories but it is what it is, eh?**

haha thank you. Arya will be getting her fair share of story time and interaction with our hero..eventually. In this chapter, Eragon's metamorphosis is almost complete. And soon he'll be interacting with Arya. I already have the plot in mind, but those chapters come later.

Hope you update your story soon :) And Unrivaled Mind really does need to get back onto her stories. She's probably the best fanfic author this fandom has along with rainxoxo imo

 **kiwisniper: I'm interested to see what the deal is with Eragon. Has he been blessed by a dragon? Cursed? Is he somehow related to the dragons like a dragonborn or is he something completely different? Anyways can't wait to find out.**

Well i can tell you that his peculiarity is a blessing and a curse. And no, he isn't dragon born haha. I play Skyrim too! Dark Elf at lvl 12, still figuring out how to not be a noob

 **Mad hatter :** **Nicely done and I like the direction you're taking. It's interesting to see galby in action and to show us a side that was only mentioned in the original cannon. I can't wait for the slow build up of Galbatorix's true dark side. More intense training sequences between Eragon and Barst would be nice and please take your time building up ExA's relationship. There hasn't been a ton of interactions at this point so don't jump into too quickly. I'm really interested to see how you write Arya's back story...also do you plan on having Eragon meeting Angela in the future? Keep up the good work and until next time :)**

Well, here's the training session you asked for(not as intense as the first one tho). Hope you like it. And thanks for the ExA advice, as mentioned earlier I plan on writing their interactions in later chapters. I am delighted that so many people are eagerly waiting for Arya's back story :) And yeah, Eragon will meet Angela. 100%

 **Guest: Really enjoying this hope to see you grow as a writer**

Glad you enjoy this story. Keep reading, keep reviewing!

 **FirstThaumaturgy: I never see any decent stories were Eragon ends up serving Galbatorix. Thank you for creating this and not abandoning it**

You're welcome xD. I am here to stay. And there really are very few stories out there with Eragon serving the Empire AU. Thankfully you liked my story hehe

 **SapphireZephyr: I really like where this is going, actually, your fic is what brought me back to this fandom after a number of years. I'm waiting to see how you'll play Eragon in this story, as an assassin? As a political tool? A soldier? With the credentials you are giving him, Eragon really can be anything. I'm still waiting to see if you'll pull this off more GoT esque or a more classic fantasy novel. Anyway, gl!**

That's a huge compliment :) Eragon will be a mixture of everything you have stated. This story is about how Eragon chooses his path from a number of different available options and how that choice shapes him. I took inspiration from the poem "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost.

* * *

A/N: As much as I enjoy positive feedback, I would love to know how I can improve this story(besides Arya) and my writing style. Do tell me if there's something you found that could have been done in a better way or if there's a particular flaw that should be worked upon (eg. descriptions, story flow, characterization etc. etc.)

That will be all for now

Until the next update!


	7. Chapter 7- The Royal Celebration-I

**DISCLAIMER: The only thing I own is my imagination.**

* * *

Eragon walked hastily through the corridors, the morning sun at his back. His spar with Lord Barst had ended a few minutes ago, and his teacher had bid farewell with an advice to reach his room as soon as was possible.

He knew better than to ask his teacher what he meant by it. This exact scenario had occurred exactly a year ago, when Eragon had been foolish enough to ignore Barst's advice. And he had paid dearly for it.

Swarmed by over enthusiastic ladies of the court, Eragon remembered it as the most difficult time he ever had in the castle. They simply did not take a polite 'no' for an answer or accept an (admittedly poor) excuse to leave him by his own self and continued to follow him all over the castle, calling for his attention in their high pitched voices.

It had been a disaster. His lessons had been rudely interrupted, shrill laughter was everywhere, and the ladies were insulting each other in a not-so-subtle way.

With him being in the centre of it.

His saving grace had been Saphira, who had taken pity upon his sorry state and 'persuaded' the ladies to leave him alone by a snort of flame. After that, they had been quick to remember that they were needed elsewhere and had taken his leave hurriedly.

But that had been a year ago. They had enough time to recover from their fright. Also, now Saphira was not small enough to land on the lawns inside the castle without destroying a shrub or two. He had to fend for himself alone this time.

With that in mind, Eragon increased his pace. But as fate would have it, his sensitive ears heard the clacking of heels against the stone floor even before the noblewoman had the opened her mouth to call out his name.

"Lord Eragon! Wait!" Eragon stopped reluctantly, a silent groan escaping his lips. It was too late to pretend he hadn't heard her, it would only add salt to the wound he was about to deliver to the noblewoman's pride.

Fixing a polite smile he had been taught to perform in the presence of nobility, Eragon turned to face the oncoming peril. The woman stopped short of an arm's breadth from him.

He wished she hadn't.

Her excessive perfume was suffocating him, as was the same case with every other lady of the court. The woman in front of him wore an opulent gown, presumably made of red dyed silk with extensive gold embroidery on the torso. Her wet brown hair had been pinned up with a few loose strands framing her fairly angular face.

"Lady Olena! How may I help a beautiful woman such as yourself on this beautiful morning?" Eragon gave a short bow; his face now wore a mask of pleasant surprise as he smoothly voiced the required phrase to bring this conversation to a quick end.

But the woman in front of him was in no hurry. She let out the expected, but still dreaded, shrill giggle that Eragon hoped would not wake half of the castle.

"You are too kind Lord Eragon, though I noticed you didn't give due attention to my new dress." she twirled to lay emphasize on her point.

"Forgive me, my lady. My attention was demanded by a certain pair of angelic eyes. The dress is gorgeous Lady Olena, but it cannot hope to compare to your natural elegance." he said with as much sincerity he could muster. He winced at the blatant flattery, but it seemed to go unnoticed by the woman as her powdered cheeks colored to match her dress.

"Please call me Olena, my lord. You are arriving from your morning lesson, I suppose?" she asked.

Eragon had to stop himself from just walking away, this conversation was going nowhere. The woman was not asking what she had chased Eragon for, and was just wasting his time and her breath on something that wasn't going to happen even if dragons started eating grass.

He couldn't even display his impatience because she was the daughter of one of the five generals. Her father directly reported to King Galbatorix and to Lord Barst, thus showing outright disrespect towards her would most certainly displease General Eduard; which would result in another tedious lecture with the king and him 'favoring' the general which meant talking to the man for longer than was strictly necessary.

Trying to suppress his ever growing exasperation, Eragon replied, "Yes my la- Olena." He deliberately stopped at that and let the silence grow, hoping that the fidgeting woman would finally speak what was clearly on her mind. The sooner it was said, the sooner it would end. It was for the best. For both of them.

Seeing her shift her weight from leg to leg and her suddenly sweaty hands firmly clasped together in front of her; Eragon decided to give the matter another push. If she said it this time, good. If she didn't, better. He could easily take his leave and rush up to his room.

"Is there something you wanted, my lady?" asked Eragon, making sure there was enough curiosity in his voice to extract a response.

"Lord Eragon, I w-would you like to accompany you to the k-king's party." she stammered, her azure eyes wide with anticipation.

"I am very sorry Lady Olena but the king has already arranged a companion for me and I don't want to disrespect his wish. Maybe I'll be fortunate enough to have the pleasure of your company some another time?" he immediately recited his preferred response with a low bow.

On not receiving a reply, he looked up to be greeted by dimmed blue eyes filled with unshed tears.

His eyes softened, the woman was still too young to have enough experience in such matters and he did not remember her to be a part of the entourage he had received last year.

"Ole-

"-I understand, my lord. Maybe in Helen's birthday party?" she said with a brave smile on her face. With a short bow, she departed- giving him no time to frame a proper reply.

When the sound of heels clacking against the floor faded, Eragon let loose a sigh. Never had he felt so ashamed of himself, this woman had been civil with him while he had just categorized her as a pretentious brat. He should have realized that she was not like others in matters of simple decencies and should have acted a bit more gently with some actual sincerity. While he was far from pleased with his performance, it had been sufficient. He did feel sorry for the lady but it had been necessary; at least she hadn't persisted and let him be. With that in mind he walked off hastily, desperate to be within the secure walls of his room.

This time he had decided upon waiting out the storm, majority of the ladies tended to give up after it was noon and went to look for other prospective companions.

As he entered his room, he saw Gertude waiting for him- her arms holding a silver tray laden with food- his breakfast. Upon seeing him enter she placed the tray on his study table, her eyes narrowing at the sight of sweat dripping from his chin.

"Take a bath Eragon. And how many times do I have to tell you 'no shoes on the carpet'?" she gestured at his boots which were on the slightly-wet carpet.

"Sorry." he ducked his head. She was one of the few people who would now call him only by his name. After all, she along with his teachers and a few others had known him the longest in this castle. She had taken over the role of Ms. Margaret inside the castle and made sure that the siblings did not train themselves to death.

"I hope no one troubled you on your way here?" asked the old woman, her mouth drawn into a thin, firm line at the thought of some foolish noblewoman troubling her second favorite child.

"No. I was fine." said Eragon, his eyes fixed on the carpet. Gertude didn't reply, but just patted the top of his head, "You really need a bath." With that the old lady left him stinking in his room.

* * *

Eragon walked up to his bath and started to reflect on the day's events as he prepared for the shower. The sparring session with Lord Barst had been the usual- a few broken ribs- and then he had mentally contacted Magister Cognitios to ask for his permission to not attend their lesson due to the party. The old man had cheerfully agreed, and Eragon was left to deal with Lady Olena.

At that particular thought, he pinched the bridge of his nose as water ran down from it. He had been lucky to encounter only one noble woman as of now, it only got tougher as the horde grew. Why did they not simply give up, Eragon knew not. It only served to make his work even dirtier. While he didn't enjoy playing God and deciding who was worthy of his company, it had to be done. For his sake and also theirs.

It wasn't their shrill voices or their excessive perfume or their overly done faces that made him want to step away from them. It was because they were _false_. It was their mentality that disgusted him, not their manners. While they may look pretty on the outside, they were hideous on the inside. They were just as scheming, just as conniving as the noblemen. They did not want to accompany him to the party because of his worth as a person but due to his worth as the vassal of the King of Alagaesia. He was the key for them to gain political prominence and a direct conversation with some of the most influential people in Alagaesia. But this was only one portion of the woman that had chased him all around the castle last year.

The second portion included women who were vain enough to believe that he would fall for their 'charms' and this would lead to a happy marriage where they would have wealth and fame without much effort on their part. They were the most direct and persistent of all the women he faced.

The third and the last portion included woman who didn't wish to accompany him but were forced to do so by their ambitious fathers. It was the same case as the first group but here the woman were mere tools in the hands of their fathers. He had always felt pity for them and thus always gave them the gentlest of rejections. He didn't accept any woman's companionship for the party- that fell under this category- because that would mean humiliation for the rest and blatant favoritism on his part.

And that was why he did not wish for any noble woman's company, they were all pretending to be something they were not- whatever their reasons might be. It was all just an act; they were not honest about their intentions and had decided to play the same game that every noble played.

It was due to this very reason that he detested gatherings such as these. Everyone was involved in some way to the Crown, and every single soul there thought they had a chance to heighten their position by lowering someone else's. They appeared to be pleasant outwardly but were just waiting for the perfect opportunity to stab you in the back. In that room, everybody was trying to manipulate everybody else to serve their selfish purposes. It was _war_ in there, and to survive you had to use their weapons.

This was the fact that Eragon hated with every fiber of his being. It was the fact that he was slowly _becoming one of them_ it wasn't a question of 'if'. It was a question of 'when' and Eragon preferred not to think of the answer.

For the sake of his sanity, he always sat with Helen, Arya and Lord Barst's wife. And for the 'mingling' that was necessary, he always chose to converse with the highest of nobles, those who sat on the royal court. They couldn't possibly have any more desires to enhance their positions, save from becoming king themselves and thus always maintained a dignified air around them that served to prevent any lesser noble from approaching them. This, along with the fact that they didn't try to flatter him like the rest and refrained from their mind games in his presence made their conversations surprisingly light-hearted.

All these reasons were why he was now standing in front of a large silver door embossed with an apple tree…

… it was where the king's concubines resided.

* * *

He had done the same last year when he had accidentally bumped into Alina, a concubine of the king. Sure, the concubines held possibly the lowest respect in the whole castle and having one on his arm would most definitely reduce his credibility and would only serve as evidence to nobles who thought of him as a half-witted boy. Moreover, he would have to bear with Lord Barst's wife's disapproving stares all through the night.

But this was what he was comfortable with.

They didn't disguise their intentions and knew how to deal with nobles better than the said party themselves. Alina was particularly good at this.

A smile crept onto his features as he remembered the day he had met Alina. He had bumped into her while taking a sharp turn around the corridors to avoid the mass of women pursuing him, and she had fallen bottom-first onto the floor. Eragon had braced himself for what he had imagined to be a guilt-trip to insure that he took the -presumed- noblewoman to the king's party but instead he had been berated like a child for running in the hallways. The woman had planted her hands firmly on her waist and dealt him a scathing scolding despite knowing who he was. Once she had educated him on the intricacies of walking like a Lord, she had left a dumb-founded Eragon alone in the empty passageway.

It had taken him quite a few moments to recover. After he had, he ran after her and had all but begged her to accompany him to the king's celebration. Thankfully, she had agreed after little contemplation and had specified their meeting point, the silver door.

And it was there, an evening exactly a year ago, he had realized she was a concubine. Eragon had had difficulty accepting her word and had tried for a subtle glance at her mind, only to be rewarded with a stinging counter. While taken aback he was pleased with his choice of a partner- she did not try to flatter or charm him, had little care for his title, and was educated in the mind arts. He later discovered her talent for easily maintaining and initiating conversations with him and the upper nobles. She understood his reasons for avoiding the lime-light and his disdain for the company present at the festivities and had on more than one occasion indulged in ridiculing the nobles from their private corner.

It was the perfect choice as far as he was concerned, and that made him rap twice on the silver door.

The door opened and a woman seemingly in her third decade poked her head out. At once her thin eyebrows rose in recognition, "Lord Eragon! How may I help you?" she giggled not-so-innocently.

"Uhh...could you please tell Alina to come outside, I wish to speak with her." he mumbled.

"But my lord, you must give us all a chance to be in your presence." with that the woman grabbed his arm and dragged a protesting Eragon inside.

The room was easily as big as the throne room with several silver candle-holders suspended on the ceiling. The room was marked by rows of glass windows as tall as Eragon himself, and beds with white sheets were arranged parallel to them in two rows. Each bed faced the other and space had been provided to walk in between the two rows of beds. They were made of mahogany with white curtains dangling from the postings carved to resemble a dragon's head. He counted roughly thirty strikingly beautiful women, most of who were smiling peculiarly at him, their eyes following his hand attached to the concubine who was leading him.

As realization dawned upon him, he jerked his hand away from her grasp with a start. The woman turned towards him with a slight laugh, "There's nothing wrong with a touch, correct my lord?" her large, soft brown eyes too close for comfort.

He shook his head quickly, his eyes wandering everywhere but refusing to see his reflection on those coffee eyes.

Before he knew it, giggles were everywhere around him, the concubines laughing quietly with their dainty hands covering their mouths and his face was burning hot enough to outshine the sun. No-one could have missed it. Eragon wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole. But there was no rescue from this embarrassment. It was absolute torture. Utter humiliation. The memory had been seared into his brain forever, ready to pop up and torment him again whenever he would be in a quiet moment.

Eragon still hadn't done the 'deed'- so to speak. And apparently the entire castle was privy to this fact, as a result he was forced to endure the teasing of the concubines.

After what seemed like eternity, Eragon finally reached Alina. She was leaning against her bed post, her arms crossed under her bosom with her licorice-black hair waving in the wind coming through the bed-side window. She was stunning, her youthful face smooth and without any scars. While Eragon had not dared to ask her age, he assumed she was four to five years older than him.

"Do you remember me?" he asked a bit nervously, it had been a year since they had talked. He sometimes saw her when their paths crossed but only a greeting or a smile used to be exchanged.

"It isn't exactly easy to forget you, Eragon." she said, her grey eyes rolling at his doubt.

"That's good to hear. Could we talk for a while?" he asked, his hand motioning towards the silver door through which he had entered.

"Sure, who am I to deny the vassal of the king?" with that she sat on her bed as almost every concubine in the room giggled again.

Once again Eragon felt his ears go warm while Alina merely sat still, her eyes twinkling with mischief. He decided it was best to ask what he had come for and to not be a part of their game for any longer than was strictly necessary.

So he mustered up courage that Lord Barst always insisted got men killed and asked, "Alina, today the king will be celebrating his birth date, would you like to accompany me to the evening party?" Eragon was proud of himself for reciting the phrase he had been memorizing since yesterday without a single falter.

"I would love to." replied Alina in less than a heartbeat.

Eragon stood silent for a moment longer than necessary, she had replied faster than he had anticipated and he was still trying to recall the response he had planned for this scenario.

"Uhh…great! I will meet you here in the evening?" he asked quickly.

"Sure" was her cheerful reply, her smile widening at the immediate relief visible on his features.

"Thank you Alina." he said with a short bow.

"Go get ready Eragon, you better not arrive late like the last time." she blithely patted his upper arm.

"Oh, someone has been working hard I see. Still training with Lord Barst?"

"I am." he replied, trying to stay still as her slim hand was wandering over his entire right arm. "I shall get going then"

He quickly turned around and walked off with increased pace towards the door, the concubines' whispering following him.

* * *

Eragon stood outside the huge silver door with a freshly shaven face and dressed in his finest clothes. He wore black leggings with a white shirt under a deep red surcoat which had detailed gold embroidery along its length. He also wore a black cape with gold trimmings around its edges to signify his rank as just below the king's.

He did not have to wait for long as Alina appeared, looking strikingly gorgeous in a black dress that enhanced her already impressive figure. It was adorned with diamonds arranged in the pattern of leaves and beautifully contrasted with the black silk. Her hair had been put up intricately, and her face had been powdered lightly with lips painted crimson.

With a smile, Alina took his offered arm and the pair set off to the celebrations.

Soon both of them were seated around a small round table in one corner of the room with Helen, Arya and Lord Barst's wife, Lady Beatrice. The older woman, who sat on his right, was looking at him with a hard look in her eyes and Eragon was doing his best to not squirm under her gaze. Alina, who sat on his left, was sipping her wine with an inexplicable smirk on her face. Their entire table had fallen into silence after the initial curtsies and only Helen was busy chattering with some noble, half turned in her chair.

Eragon's eyes moved over the entire hall, almost every noble and general wielding significant political influence was present. They were divided into small groups talking among themselves with smiles on their faces and their hands waving around expressively. Lord Barst was standing silently amongst some upper nobles, a goblet in his hands, muttering a few words whenever a question was posed at him. Their eyes met briefly and Eragon sent him a cheeky grin before letting his eyes wander over the to rest of the company.

The king's arrival was announced and he entered with a wide smile on his ever-youthful face, wearing majestic purple robes with a white cloak billowing behind him and his favorite mistress on his left arm. He walked up to the dais that had been constructed for this particular evening and expressed his gratitude to everyone present at the party. Then as was the custom, the orchestra began with a slow melody and the king took his mistress for the first dance, twirling her in complex maneuvers while the crowd 'oohed' and 'ahhed' at their performance. Finally the dance ended and the audience broke out into a ringing applause.

This time the orchestra started a more vibrant tune with everyone walking towards the cleared area in the centre to join the king with their respective partners.

Eragon sighed, it was time for his main act and he had to execute it flawlessly. With a warm smile fixed on his visage, he turned towards Alina's sparkling eyes and stood up from his chair, his posture perfectly straight as Lord Barst too came up to his wife and whisked her away, throwing a nod in his general direction. Alina smiled at Helen and Arya, the only people to remain seated and took Eragon's hand, letting him lead her towards the main event.

They began their dance, it was smooth but Eragon had to pay attention on not stepping on Alina's toes. Being a proficient dancer was not counted among his merits while Alina on the other hand was naturally elegant at it and was subtly leading their dance, her left hand exuding varying pressure on his shoulder to alert him of the change in their pattern.

Just as he was starting to enjoy their dance it came to an end, all the nobles applauding and breaking off from their partners to either resume the discussion they had with their respective groups or to sample a dish that they had taken a liking to amongst the vast variety available. Alina too grinned up at Eragon before breaking off the contact and walking off to chat with some noblemen who didn't seem to know her profession.

Eragon too smirked to himself as he watched Alina play her usual game with the nobles. It was possibly the best thing about Alina, aside from her witty personality; she did not try to hog his attention and demand for dances in rapid succession. This was in contrast to the women that surrounded him. She understood him well enough to respect his wishes and this occasion also provided her with an opportunity to climb the political ladder and interact with the most influential of people present in Alagaesia. Eragon's smile widened as he saw the generals laughing heartily at something Alina had uttered, their eyes only on her and their wives forgotten in the background.

His attention was demanded by an obsidian ring clad hand on his shoulder. The king smiled at him, "I am glad you decided to join us my child. Your company is the same as last year, is it not Eragon?" he asked in an amused voice, his eyes on the back of Alina's head.

Without waiting for his reply, the king patted him fatherly on the back before he strolled towards Helen and Arya, uttered a few words with them and then walked back to his raised dais on which rested a magnificently adorned table. Around it were ten gold backed chairs meant for The King and his partner, Lord Barst, the Chief Warlock, and the six upper nobles.

However, the majority of the crowd still seemed intent on dancing so Eragon too walked up to Lady Olena who had been conversing with some ladies of the court. The women stiffened at his approach, their eyes fixed on him, and Olena -whose back was facing him- looked over her shoulder to see him standing behind her.

Eragon took a deep breath, meeting her pale blue orbs which were looking at him with silent embarrassment.

It was time to correct his wrongs.

* * *

A/N: I am back! I originally wrote this chapter in 8k+ words and then decided to break it into 2 parts. I do hope you'll like this chapter, nothing major happens in this but the chapter does showcase Eragon's thoughts and personality a bit more than others.

REVIEWS:

 **Squidoverlord: I absolutely adore this story so far. Im curious, needless to say, how this dance is going to play out.**

Glad to hear it! Was the dance up to your standards? (pun fully intended)

 **Sanchez260: Great chapter. Continue your good work**

Thanks for taking out time to review. Please continue to do so :)

 **desropter: I just love the plot! Honestly the Eragon world has so much potential. Not every FF must be about a Dragon Rider as main character! There are shades, talented magic user usw. too. I personally always liked the idea of a strong magic user more(like this FF).**

I know! Fanfics with shades are seriously under-rated. Happy to hear that you liked my story.

 **Haldir639 : Two excellent updates, sorry for not reviewing the last chapter (I was quite busy).**

 **Making a time-skip was probably the right call, considering how you didn't want an excessively long fic.**

 **You asked for advice - how about we see Eragon display his skills/growth more often? The characterizations you write are wonderful, but I feel like the story would benefit from more than the occasional test with Barst/Cognitos. Of course, these are fairly fairly days and you have plenty of time to develop things, but... food for thought.**

 **I don't recall that I replied to your reply, when you said that you didn't want to include a Forsworn ruling distant lands on account of that stretching the story and you wanting to keep things central, focused on Alagaesia.**  
 **That wasn't quite what I had in mind, though. Like, instead of a Wyrdfell having a client kingdom or satellite state of their own, I was thinking more like a smallish town/fortress/outpost (for defence or research or something) on one of the small islands southwest of the Empire, or ditto but located near the easternmost river on the map (the name escapes me)? Since the Hadarac prevents the Empire from easy access, it'd be a strategically decent idea to station some troops and, say, 1-3 Forsworn near the river so they could 1) launch raids on the elves and dwarves, threatening them directly and on multiple fronts, and 2) cut of the magically protected elves aiding the Varden and the dwarves with supplies etc. The fortress-city-thing would be there to alleviate the Imperial need for supplies for the eastern troops, since the logistics of keeping them all fed, armed, entertained etc would be a nightmare otherwise.**  
 **Potentially, it'd be a springboard to the east after a victory in Alagaesia, but I'm rambling.**

 **Eragon using two swords originally irritated me, but magic (in the form of wards) takes care of the main issue with not using a shield (arrows and the like). Still, one day I'd like to see a fic where Eragon fights with a mace or crowsbeak or halberd or... something a bit more esoteric than the generic fantasy sword, you know?**

 **Can't wait for the next update.**

what a massive review! I really enjoyed reading it :) Eragon will be displaying his skills in an upcoming battle-scene. That wyrdfell idea was really good, i literally sat half an hour contemplating on it. I will be incorporating it after the main storyline or somewhere in between. Not sure where exactly but it's 99.99% guaranteed to come up somewhere. Sorry for the dual swords, I myself was a bit hesitant with the idea but ultimately decided to go with it simply because of the functionality and the freshness of this concept in this fandom.

 **Elemental Dragon Slayer: Good stuff, Eragon progressing well I see! Interesting to see who he finds to take to the dance... and what happens at said party/dance lol**

Well, here's the first part of it. Penny for your thoughts?

 **Mad hatter:** **This story is getting better and better with each new chapter! I'm glad you didn't do a massive time skip and still left room for Eragon to develop. I always loved the two sword technique, but as another reviewer stated it might be good for Eragon to use a third weapon to mix things up...a spear for example. Without a dragon Eragon is going to need all the help he can get.**

 **I'm hoping you're going to make Arya go with Eragon to Galbatorix's bday celebration to help kick off some ExA growth, but can understand if you want to hold off. One question I do have is with the changes Eragon has gone through over the last two year is he still a name slave to the king? I'm sure his true name has changed an with Galbatorix's over confidence I could see him forgetting to renew his vows. Anyway great job and I hope we don't have to wait too long for the next chapter!**

Eragon not having a dragon is an advantage for his enemies, not a disadvantage for him ;) Did you like Eragon' choice for the party? lol. I added Alina more for the shock factor than anything else. But the next part will be much more interesting for you..that's all I am gonna say for now. As for Eragon still being a name slave, you'll have to wait or read 'Inheritance' once again hehe. Can't wait for your next review!

 **Guest: Wow! The plot for this story is mind blowing. Arya is enslaved by Galbatorix too! I read your answers regarding her backstory, but I still can't wait for it. Also, will Murtagh/Thorn feature in the story? You're doing a really good job on this fanfic. Do keep it up.**

Thanks! Arya's backstory is detailed and will come after quite some time. Murtagh and Thorn will appear in the story after some time.

 **Venomheart the Dreamer: You tend to have a lot of unneeded commas or misplaced commas around dialogue.**

Yeah I realized that after re-reading my first 2 chapters. Sorry you had to go through that lol. I will try to update/correct those chapters whenever I am free. If you are reading this, then you probably have read my other chapters which are relatively comma free. Keep reading, keep reviewing!

 **CandiceSutton: This story is off the charts! It has it's fair share of suspense and surprises. Your writing style is really impressive, please don't ever stop writing this story!**

Haha you made me blush! Thank you for dropping such a positive review.

 **KingPlotBunny : huh first time I've read an Eragon fic like this where Eragon isn't a rider your characterization is very down to earth not the melodrama Paolini went with Eragon is less "watch me break down in tears cause I was jilted" and more calm and calculative I am curious about what you've done with Muratagh and Brom and I like how Eragon's path isn't so set in stone he doesn't have some destined obligation to be the hero hell you could make him pseudo-villain maybe he sees how corrupt Galbatorix is and decides to rule himself frankly its up in the air and that adds a bit mystery as to his goals that was lacking in the books good job**

Totally agree with you on the melodrama part, Eragon was literally behaving like a hormonal teenager(which he was) and not as if he had a huge responsibility on his shoulders. Murtagh will be making an appearance after some time but Brom probably won't be. You'll have to read to find out more. Until then, keep guessing!

* * *

A/N: Wow so many reviews for the previous chapter! I generally get 7 reviews per chapter but this time it went till 10 xD

Super grateful to all those who reviewed/ favorited/ followed the story!

The next part will be a LOT more engrossing than this one. I have already written it out as stated above, but finishing touches remain to be added. It should be up in 3-4 days time.

Until the next update!


	8. Chapter 8- The Royal Celebration-II

**DISCLAIMER: The only thing I own is my imagination.**

* * *

"My lady, would you like a dance with me?" Eragon asked pleasantly, noting the surprise in her eyes as she hastily- but not ungracefully accepted his request. He led her to dance floor and they swayed to the slow music.

"You look even prettier now, my lady. I hope your partner would not mind if I took a bit of your time." murmured Eragon, he felt guilty for giving her the same treatment he usually reserved for the ill-mannered noblewomen and had decided it was the best way to convey his apology.

"I am sure he wouldn't. General Aldis seems to be very busy anyway." she replied, her cheeks slightly pink as she refused to meet his eyes. Eragon looked up to see the young but prodigious strategist talking amongst a huddled group of generals and nobles alike.

It was not long before their dance came to an end. He thanked Lady Olena, and escorted the woman back to her awaiting group- but before he could take his leave, the woman pecked on his cheek and bade him a good night. Eragon walked away from the sound of hushed giggling and stares he felt on the back of his head to join the group where Lord Barst was at.

Eragon never stood too long in one group and went about his usual rounds around the room to not leave anyone dissatisfied with him. He danced with Helen and Lord Barst's wife before Alina finally came up to him and the pair decided to eat at their initial table.

Arya had not moved at all from her spot, a few noble had come up to her, only to return after exchanging a few sentences. The noblewomen kept their distance from her with the sole exception of Lady Beatrice who got along with the she-elf surprisingly well.

Maintaining their usual ritual, Helen and Eragon's plates had only vegetables. Alina and Lady Beatrice followed suit, both aware of Arya's habit of not consuming meat. The meal was inviting and the company pleasant; as a result he enjoyed dinner the most in the entire party.

"So, my lady what have you been up to? It has been a year since I last saw you." asked Alina, her question directed at Helen.

The said girl looked up from her plate, "Nothing much Lady Alina. I have been training hard to become like Arya! I hope your business has been flourishing?" she asked cheerfully, quite oblivious to what the business exactly entailed.

On his right Lady Beatrice let out an enraged un-ladylike grunt, which was left unheard by everyone at the table.

Before he could have a chance to listen to Alina's reply, his teacher's wife whispered a question at him, "Eragon did you have difficulty in choosing a partner this time too?" she asked with a smile that promised him pain if he gave her an unsatisfactory response.

"No my lady, Alina is the most suitable partner for me." he mumbled, looking at his feet like a child expecting to be reprimanded by his mother.

"Well I am not so sure about that." the woman whispered fiercely. Her head turning towards Arya who was busy forking her potatoes.

Eragon suppressed a groan; Lady Beatrice was clearly ignorant of the fact that elves were gifted with superior senses. Most likely Arya had seen Lady Beatrice's head turn in her direction which made the situation even more embarrassing for him. Thankfully, the elf had not reacted visibly and was laboring at slicing her cheese.

"My lady, I am perfectly content with my choice and companion." he hastily whispered back.

The woman's reply was to simply ignore him and jab a spoonful of mashed potato into her mouth, all rules of elegance forgotten.

Grateful for the silence, Eragon turned his attention back to Helen who was animatedly talking to Alina about some fishes she had caught with Saphira. Seeing that Arya was being left alone and Lady Beatrice did not seem to be in the right frame of mind to hold a pleasant conversation, he decided to talk to the she-elf, she had probably been left alone from the moment she had entered the hall.

As he looked up at her, Eragon found the green orbs were already staring at him. The usual reaction occurred; he suddenly started feeling uneasy looking at her exquisite face- this phenomena had not ceased to occur since the last two year. For some reason he did not at all get awed by her sheer beauty like other individuals did but tensed as if he was expecting her to attack him.

To avoid giving away his anxiety, he used to mentally recite a scrap of verse from a poem he had read from Magister Cognitios' collection. Since the poem had been learnt by heart, Eragon had no difficulty in maintaining their usually small conversation while simultaneously focusing on the words of the verse.

And so he began,

" _In El-harím, there lived a man, a man with yellow eyes._

 _To me, he said, "Beware the whispers, for the whisper lies._

 _Do not wrestle with the demons of the dark,_

 _Else upon your mind they'll place a mark;_

 _Do not listen to the shadows of the deep,_

 _Else they haunt you even when you sleep."_

"How was your day, Lady Arya? I heard that Helen took you to the woods." he asked with a polite smile on his face.

"The day went well Eragon and the walk through the woods was refreshing as well. How has your training been coming along?" she questioned in her slightly accented voice.

"It has been progressing well. Although Lord Barst stills seems intent on bleeding me dry." he answered. At this, Lady Beatrice chuckled while the elf merely gave small smile in response. Feeling pleased with himself for an unknown reason, he let the older woman continue the conversation with Arya, while he looked ahead to see most of the nobles departing.

Finally! The party was over for everyone except the five generals and the upper nobles. It was an unwritten rule, before the clock struck twelve, the lesser nobility were expected to leave the king and his council alone. The king's direct subordinates were counted as an exception too.

Alina too seemed to understand her cue and pushed the already empty plate away from her. With a slight bow to each of the ladies at their table, she smiled at Eragon who stood at once and offered her his arm as he escorted the woman out of the hall.

The pair stood on a stone balcony that looked out into the night sky, the stars twinkling above them and the lights of the city far below them.

"Your dancing technique has surprisingly improved, my toes do not hurt as much as they did the last time." she broke the silence, laughter visible in her grey eyes.

Eragon chuckled at the back-handed compliment. "Thank you for tonight, Alina. I would not have survived without you."

"I know. The noblewomen would have pounced on you like wolf on sheep." smirked Alina.

"My hero!" Eragon let out a shrill shout, clutching his heart.

Alina broke into a fit of giggles. "I enjoyed tonight as well. I think I managed to wrap a noble or two around my little finger."

Eragon rolled his eyes at her boast. "I wish I had the same gift too."

"Start powdering your face then, Lady Eragon." said the woman, playfully patting his cheek.

He reached into the pocket of his surcoat and brought out a necklace with glittering blue and black sapphires. "Please accept this as a token of my appreciation." said Eragon as he put forward his open palm.

Alina's eyes widened momentarily and she immediately stepped back, "I already got what I came for Eragon. I have established several contacts through this party, there is no need to pay me with _this_." she gestured towards the necklace which lay resting on his open palm.

He shook his head, "That was your cleverness, not my intent. If you picked up something along the way then that's a bonus but not remittance itself."

"I did not come for gold or gems Eragon." she said fiercely.

Eragon sighed exasperatedly, this woman just did not know how to accept a gift. "Then keep it as a souvenir for tonight. Something to remember me by."

The stubborn woman snorted, "I can remember you well enough without priceless gems clinging to my neck. Do not waste your gold on someone as trivial as me, Eragon."

At this, the man frowned. "You are clever, funny and knowledgeable. Which other woman can hold a meaningful conversation with me? Which other woman is witty enough to banter with the higher nobles? Which other woman is brave enough to call me by my name? None. The 'noble' ladies cannot hold a candle to you and I am glad to call you a friend. Besides, I summoned the gems from the earth, so don't worry about my gold." he smiled smugly at the last part as he stretched his hand even further.

She was not looking at him now, only at the lights of the citadel below them, the night breeze playing with strands of her hair. Finally, she turned towards him "Well don't stand there like a rock, put the necklace on me you obstinate oaf." and with that elegant quote she turned her back towards him.

Smiling to himself, Eragon slid the necklace between his fingers and stepped up to place the necklace on her slim neck. Once it was done, he stepped back and Alina too turned to face him.

"So, how do I look now?" she asked, placing a dainty hand on her collarbone.

"Better than before." answered Eragon.

She placed her hand over her heart in mock offense, "You, kind sir, do not know how to treat a lady."

And both of them chuckled at the sad but true joke.

With a quick step in, Alina stood on her toes and pecked his cheek "Thank you Eragon, for this and the party. I had a wonderful time. Maybe I should repay you?" her voice turning a bit sultry at the end as her hand roamed on his defined chest.

"Are you playing the game with me, Alina?" asked Eragon, all the concubines loved to put pressure on his weak spot.

"No, you deserve better Eragon. Someday you will find a woman who truly loves you for what you are." murmured Alina as she took a step back.

For some reason Eragon could not meet those wise grey eyes and looked up at the stars, "A warrior cannot afford to fall in love, Lord Barst says so."

"And he has a wife for himself." scoffed Alina. "Do not be so cynical Eragon; life has great plans for you. Good people get good things and being in love is the best thing one can have."

"You sound very confident about love." muttered Eragon.

"I read it in a book." confessed Alina.

"Are you not afraid that your profession might not allow you to fall in love?" asked Eragon, knowing full well that she would not take offense to his question.

"I am afraid. But as I said, life has plans for everyone. We just need to follow the course and not let any potential opportunities slip by. Always have hope Eragon. It is the most powerful thing to have." said Alina, once again betraying the fact that she was no ordinary woman.

He nodded his understanding and Alina hugged him tightly.

" Do visit me sometime Eragon, you only come when you have work with me. It's not every day I get to enjoy the most delightful of conversations with a man." with a wave she departed, leaving a smiling and slightly guilty Eragon alone under the starry roof.

* * *

After a few moments of blissful silence Eragon walked back to the hall, keen on not giving Lady Beatrice the wrong impression. His time away from the party had been rewarding as now only a few families were left and those too were scattered into small groups in various corners. Only three couples were dancing and the orchestra had also reduced to half, the other half were dining in one corner of the hall.

Now the atmosphere was much less formal and everybody was busy amongst themselves, the king was talking with his council-all the seats now occupied in the round table, while the generals were busy drinking their way to an early grave.

Eragon's group had not left their table and he walked towards them. All of them were drinking deeply from their goblets, "I hope that is not wine, Helen." said Eragon with a nod at her goblet as he took his seat.

"Relax Eragon! It's pumpkin juice. Have you ever heard of wine being made of fruits? Besides, Arya brought me this goblet herself after she forgot about my restrictions" chirped Helen.

Eragon opened his mouth to correct her but closed it silently, reasoning it was best for her to remain ignorant on this subject.

"Eragon, you have been terribly unfair towards Arya!" Lady Beatrice exclaimed suddenly, her cheeks very pink.

"Uhh...how is that my lady?" he asked, sneaking a glance at the she-elf who was occupied with her wine glass.

"Well you have not exactly given her due attention have you?" accused Lady Beatrice, her face showing mild but righteous anger.

Fantastic! Now his teacher's wife was drunk and if Eragon did not want to enrage her anymore he would have to play with her rules. Because heavens knew the woman had a pair of lungs in her, not only would it mean embarrassment on both Lord Barst and Lady Beatrice's part come tomorrow but Eragon would also feel guilty for not having prevented the oncoming catastrophe. So he did the only thing that would calm the drunken woman,

"Lady Arya, please accept my sincerest apologies for not paying attention to you. I was pre-occupied with many things and thus was unable to provide you with the mindfulness that you deserve." he bowed low from his seat.

But to his ever growing shock and panic, Arya did not utter a single word and merely flicked her hand dismissively at him.

"Of course a mere verbal apology will not do young man! You must show Lady Arya that you truly regret your actions, go take her for a dance!" Lady Beatrice all but shouted.

He stared at the woman for a full minute, his mind failing to comprehend what had just been uttered and then the horror began like a cluster of spark plugs in his abdomen. Tension grew in his face and limbs, his breathing became more rapid, more shallow.

The thoughts immediately began accelerating inside his head. He desperately wanted them to slow so he could breathe but they did not relent. His breaths came in huge gasps and he felt like he would collapse due to the sheer stress. His heart was hammering inside his chest like it belonged to a rabbit running for its skin. His heartbeat was a drum, loud enough for everyone to hear. What was even more alarming was that both, Arya and Helen were doing nothing to pacify the rampaging woman, the girl merely looking at him with barely suppressed humor and the elf scrutinizing her chalice.

"Eragon do it now." Lady Beatrice emphasized her order by slamming a fist on the heavily clothed table, the muffled sound enough to warrant the attention of their neighbors.

That was the breaking point for Eragon and as if lightning had struck him, he sprang from his chair and the words were out of his treacherous mouth before he could stop them, "My lady, please do me the honor of having a dance with you."

And he was even more dumbfounded when Arya placed her slender hand on his outstretched palm. Was this actually happening? Eragon looked around at the blinking lights that were the nobles' eyes and then back at the elf. What was wrong with her? Why was the ever reserved Arya suddenly so liberal?

And all his queries were answered as soon as they had taken mere three strides towards the dance floor.

 _Faelnirv._

He had smelt it before he could recall the name. While the scent was barely present, his elf-like nose had picked on it. He looked over his shoulder as he walked ahead towards the floor; Helen and Lady Beatrice were sniggering at them. Upon catching his frantic eyes, Helen waved a small open flask at him and then expressively turned it upside down. _It was empty._

Words left Eragon. He stared into those bright blue eyes, asking a silent question he already knew the answer to. His pace had suddenly slowed and as if stuck underwater, everything slowed and appeared warbled to him. Was this truly happening? He screamed in his mind, _Arya was drunk beyond measure._ Helen had slipped an entire flask of Faelnirv into the elf's goblet and somehow Arya had not identified it.

Eragon opened his mind and felt for Helen's

" _How?"_ was all he asked and all she needed to know what Eragon was referring to.

" _She went to get my pumpkin juice, and I simply cast a spell for increasing the depth of the goblet and temporarily removed the smell of the Faelnirv. I couldn't completely remove it though; my reserves are not big enough yet. And it was all Saphira's plan, Lady Beatrice and I just played our part."_ Helen replied, her thoughts holding no small amount of amusement.

There was no time to back away now, every noble's eyes were upon the pair. Now they just had to perform convincingly and depart as soon as possible. Thankfully, the orchestra had decided on a slow melody and more couples had joined in which made the task easier for Eragon.

Calmly steering Arya into the centre- they began to dance, he lead while she followed mutely. This was starting to worry Eragon a bit, Faelnirv was highly intoxicating and she had consumed an unholy amount. He only hoped she didn't trip on her own two feet and let every soul inside and outside the hall realize that she was not in full control of her faculties. It would be no less than a calamity for her _and_ Helen if this indeed came to happen.

Praying to every god he knew of, Eragon carefully moved his feet, deliberately keeping the pattern as simple as possible and wishing that the orchestra would finish this piece soon. Thankfully Arya kept up with his pace and followed the sequence effortlessly, her natural elven elegance providing her the grace most women could only dream of. Eragon wondered who was looking like a drunk now. Him or her?

His efforts were rewarded with the orchestra tapering off their tune and the king, and in turn the audience, giving all the couples a standing ovation. King Galbatorix had mirth in his gaze as he nodded in Eragon's direction before turning back towards his council. Lady Beatrice was clapping particularly hard, her face smug with satisfaction with Helen accompanying her enthusiastically.

Eragon gave them the glare that Lord Barst had taught him to be used on enemy soldiers but both the females stared back unfazed. With a twinge of disappointment at his failed move, Eragon bowed low in the king's direction and received an accepting smile in return. At this, he began to steer Arya out of the hall, intent on removing her from the prying eyes of the noble lest they discover her in such a weak moment. The elf shuffled her feet without protest and as soon as they were out of the huge doors, she would have collapsed on her knees had Eragon not caught her halfway through her fall.

Muttering about stupid dragons and impressionable children and adults Eragon lifted the now slump Arya, "My lady, can you walk?"

He received a feeble nod, her green eyes now brighter than ever. Shaking his head to clear off the uneasiness he always felt when around her, Eragon swung her left arm over his shoulder and firmly placed his arm around her waist as he had done to numerous wounded soldiers. With a snail-slow pace they began their march. The elf was surprisingly light weighted and Eragon gifted with enhanced strength, so he had no difficulty in supporting the majority of her weight, he was only worried about stumbling into some noble who would use this opportunity for his own schemes.

With that in thought, he immediately opened his mind, searching for any human in their vicinity. His results were negative but there was one mind observing them, and not really trying to hide from him, that of a dragon.

" _Saphira have you lost your mind? Arya is going to be enraged at you tomorrow morn. And good for you, both you and your rider deserve it. An entire flask of Faelnirv? She can't even talk due to the intoxication! What if someone had found out, the king would have been furious with you two. What will Firnen be thinking right now? I do not even want to face him_." Eragon threw his thoughts at the dragon not bothering to hide his anger and frustration at the hazardous stunt she had pulled.

" _Relax Eragon, it was just us having a bit of fun. No need to throw a tantrum when nothing happened. Besides, Firnen-ebrithil helped us in acquiring the leaves meant to be added to Faelnirv to enhance its intoxication properties."_ with the final reveal, Saphira broke their mental contact, her laughter still resounding in his mind.

Soon the pair stood in front of Arya's room. Eager to be done with the matter, Eragon held the wooden door handle with his free hand and attempted to push the door open. Only to let go of it with a frightened yelp, his palm felt as if it had been burnt with freezing fire.

"Barzul!" he muttered painfully. He would have cursed a bit more had he not remembered that he stood in the presence of a lady.

Abruptly cutting off his next swear, he turned his head towards Arya, "My lady, your door has been locked magically. Could you please open it for me?"

Without a word the elf leant shakily towards the wooden barrier and placed her palm on the handle, the door opened smoothly and the candles inside the room flickered to life. With a relieved sigh, Eragon supported the she-elf into her room- it was exactly the same as two years ago.

It was easy enough to bring her near the bed that had been sung from the vines but as he placed a now snoring Arya on the bed, her hand stuck onto the collar of his shirt and with a jerk his face was smashed into the surprisingly soft bed. His head was right next to hers, his face in her wavy black hair and with an astonished breath he smelled the most soothing scent of crushed pine needles. It was coming from her hair, and it rapidly calmed a distressed Eragon.

His limbs loosened, his facial muscles relaxed and his breathing evened. It was the stillness that this scent created that he found most serene. No air stirred the grass or leaves. No water dripped or flowed in the suddenly silent stream. Not a sound could be heard either close at hand or in the far off distance. Even his own breath seemed to fade as soon as it left his mouth. It was blissful tranquility. It was for the first time he was undisturbed in her presence, the first time he could look at her without feeling on the edge, the first time he was awestruck by her ethereal beauty.

Why had he not detected this smell before now? It would have saved him some unnecessary and elaborate measures.

He mentally shook his head and the reasonable side of him woke up. It was best for him to leave before anyone stumbled upon them stuck in this precarious position, heavens knew what kind of stories and accusations he would have to face. He raised his face further away from Arya and tried to gently pry open her hand to release his collar but to no avail.

Still awkwardly bent over her, Eragon whispered more to himself than her, "My lady, could you please let go of my shirt?" as he tugged softly at her wrist.

"My name is Arya and I am not a lady." the elf murmured sleepily before releasing his wrinkled white shirt.

Eragon lost count of how many times he had been left dumbfounded today as he slowly straightened up in shock- his eyes wide open and mouth ever wider- looking at the lightly snoring elf, her dark hair fanned out underneath her. He stood there for god knows how long, before muttering ' _thringa vindr'_ to blow out the candles.

"Sleep well my la- Arya." he turned around with a ghost of a smile, and closed the door behind him.

Once outside, Eragon stretched his back and arms- satisfied as the joints popped back into place- before walking off into the night, his black cloak billowing behind him.

* * *

A/N: Here's the part 2, let me know what you think of it!

REVIEWS:

 **Elemental Dragon Slayer: Nice, interesting choice. Quite funny reading awkward, young dashing noble Eragon trying to ask Alina to the party and fumble his way around the other ladies. Lol.**

 **Hopefully Eragon gets a dance with Arya? And there's some party drama or some other shenanigans. Good chapter again!**

Thank you! I was thinking it might be too cringey but the review(s) state otherwise. Here is the dance with Arya. Did you like it? lol

 **KingPlotBunny: lol you gave Galbatorix a harem he's a literal Harem King hahaha I approve there wasn't nearly enough mention of sex in the inheritance cycle for a series based in a medieval setting or maybe i'm just a perv a bit surprised Eragon is still a virgin maybe this party will change that anyway we get a good view of how Eragon feels about the nobility while most of the reaction was expected the fact he acknowledges he is becoming one of them is interesting I wonder how far you will take that**

Haha thank you! I read somewhere that the Chinese kings had a thousand concubines, so I decided on giving Galbatorix a few too ;)

 **MichaelL01: great chapter hopes she doesn't get too wrong an idea and as eds said I hope arya gets a dance as well great chapter**

Olena is just a background character, she won't be having any relevant impact in the story. As for the dance, here it is.

 **Haldir639 : I'm glad you enjoyed my review. Feel free to PM me if you ever want to discuss headcanons or ideas more in-depth. I'm also very glad that you like my suggestions!**

 **This is probably my favourite chapter to date. It is vanishingly rare on this site, regardless of fandom, to find a fic where the protagonist becomes part of the system rather than acting like a rebellious teenager. I particularly liked how Eragon was aware of how his proximity to the deadly politics were affecting him, and how very human it is for him to mentally sort of shy away from fully exploring/considering something so distasteful to him.**

 **Galbatorix so far is pretty benevolent. Personally I'm hoping for his darker side to be like the HP crossover "Double Jeopardy" - I keep coming back to that fic, purely because of how fantastically competent and contemptuous Galbatorix is.**

 **Arya, Olena, Alina, and now possibly one of the Forsworn (FormoraxEragon is the superior pairing, fight me) as well? Eragon appears to be following in Galbatorix's footsteps where smoking hot harems are concerned, at least.**

 **About the two swords and people usually using shields instead - I mentioned wards, but we know from canon that weapons can be enchanted to cut through, ignore or work around wards - like the spears from Du Fyrn Skulblaka, Rider swords, probably the arrows that killed Faolin and Glenwing - to say nothing of how amethyst appears to ignore or even cancel out magic completely. This could be used to build tension - maybe Eragon is shot with a poisoned, enchanted arrow/arrow covered in amethyst dust? Maybe he gets ganged up on by a unit of elves?**

 **Looking forward to the next chapter.**

Thanks! I'll PM you if I get stuck somewhere. Glad to hear this was your favorite chapter :) I'll look into the fanfic you mentioned (i was a bit busy) and see if i can pick something from there. Eragon won't be having a harem, too many women to write for xD.

Whaaat? Amethyst counters magic? I didn't know that! Could you please tell me more about it? If there's a link or something, plz do tell.

 **Guest: This story is becoming increasingly entertaining and the read is great. As i have seen from reviews and what i have been thinking myself is when will Eragon get to truly test himself. I was thinking that Galbatorix hears word of an Urgal army pillaging along the Spine and as a test and a chance for experience Galbatorix sends Eragon out with a couple thousand men under HIS command to deal with the threat leading to a multi-year series of combat or something.**

 **Just my thoughts.**

Well Eragon will be getting an assignment/battle scene pretty soon as I have mentioned multiple times. Your description is pretty close to what I have planned, but the siege won't take years..only days. There are a few other points too but you'll have to wait for the chapter ;)

Keep reading!

 **Squidoverlord: Another outstanding chapter. And yes, this dance was indeed up to my standards. This is tied first place with another fanfiction in terms of my favorites**

Haha Thank you! I presume the other fanfic is "Recovery"?

 **Guest: This chapter is insane!**

Thank you! It took me quite some time to write out the chapter.

 **CandiceSutton: Ooh I loved this chapter. The plot seems to be very intricate, I can't wait for the next chapter. Please do keep up the good work**

Thanks for the review. I try my best to increase the quality of the work even more.

 **Mad hatter: Loved the long chapter and can't wait for more. I liked that you had a concubine as his date to the dance and thought it was interesting she has the ability to block her mind. Makes me wonder if she's actually a spy from the Varden or the elves...most likely none of the above :). Overall I'm happy with the flow of this story and Eragon's thought process when it comes to politics and his struggle to fight off Galbatorix's court. I still hope you plan an ExA moment in the next chapter and set things off in the right direction.**

 **As always I appreciate your response, but I don't think I'll have time available to reread the inheritance series, so i'll have to wait for the time being. It's still my belief his true name has changed multiple times by now and is unknowing freely serving Galbatorix. Anyway awesome job and I hope your update comes out sooner rather than later!**

Alina is somewhat of a background character, so there isn't that much of a possibility of her being a spy or anything like that. I'm happy to hear(read) that you liked the part where Eragon deals with the court politics, it takes a lot of time to write it as smoothly as possible :) I won't be commenting on the "true name" topic, but lets just say you guess is close but not quite there yet. Do let me know what you thought of the ExA moment!

* * *

A/N: As almost everyone was asking for a ExA moment, I decided to write it out a bit earlier than planned. This chapter kinda marks the beginning of ExA but don't expect the story to dive into it completely. The romance will kick off after quite some time. As of now, Eragon will still develop further, make a few choices and then start conversing with Arya.

Also, how many of you recognized those lines/verse that Eragon recites in his head?

Cookies for those who did!


	9. Notice

THIS IS NOT A CHAPTER.

Only an update on my current state, which I am going to use as an excuse for not updating this story in such a long time.

For those who are indifferent, I suggest you skip this notice/update and thus save your time.

Here's a bit of my background.

I am 18 years of age and graduated from highschool a few months back. In India (that's where I am from) we usually give entrance exams right after high school graduation to get acceptance into universities and the sort.

I got into a med school and had to fill up sooo many forms and perform an insane number of formalities that I didn't even have the time to visit this site. This was during August 25-30.

Now, after a week of actually studying and living as a med student I finally remembered that I had a story to write. But as most of you know, college life is super hectic and I simply cannot find the time to even read other stories on this site, not to speak of writing my own.

So what I am trying convey is that first I will have to adjust to this new way of life and then try to make time for writing content. But it will take a while. Actually, quite a while. So please bear with me.

I don't even know why I am writing this out but I guess I feel a bit guilty for just abandoning this story so suddenly.

This story has already been plotted out upto 90% but writing out sequences with proper descriptions take time, especially when you are an under-writer. I will try to begin writing the next chapter in 2-3 weeks and the next update will probably come around next month( it could be later, i don't know for sure).

I hope I don't come across as a whiny kid...lmao.

That will be all for now, I hope all of you will stick around to read the next update(which will be a proper chapter) xD.

Until then, wish me luck!


	10. Chapter 10

**DISCLAIMER: The only thing I own is my imagination.**

* * *

Eragon walked through the towering hallways, blinking his way to alertness. The hilts of his swords swayed in a fixed pattern as he moved hastily towards the training room for his usual morning session with Lord Barst.

Without caring for proper etiquette he barged through the wooden door and immediately came to a halt, his drowsiness forgotten. Standing ahead was Lord Barst sans his usual armor and by his side stood Arya, her emerald sword at her waist. When their eyes met, Eragon had an unfortunate image flash inside his head, which he ruthlessly squashed. He had to use every bit of his willpower to not fidget and stay still in the face of an incoming storm.

The deafening silence was broken as Lord Barst called at him, "You will be sparring with Lady Arya today, boy." The she-elf merely nodded in his direction, her being exuding the usual aloofness as she kept up the blank look on her visage.

Eragon let out a relieved sigh, good; she had forgotten.

The mute boy nodded shakily and walked towards the duo, unsheathing his swords as he stopped some thirty feet from the elf. In response the elf unsheathed Tamerlein while his teacher walked towards the wall to spectate the duel.

Both of them bowed and fell into their respective stances as one eyed the other. Eragon had never sparred with the elf- or any other elf for that matter and was keenly observing Arya's posture. It was fairly simple, one foot placed forward-toes pointing at him- while the other foot was firmly placed behind for balance. Knees were bent; the body oriented sideways to provide a smaller target and sword held in a single handed grip pointing at his chest- the stance was orthodox and followed the textbook to the very last letter.

His own stance was a complete contrast- feet placed slightly apart, knees unbent and chest facing forward with his arms hanging limply by his side. It could be mistaken for ineptitude or mockery. At that thought, Eragon winced and immediately brought his right sword, _kveykva,_ diagonal to his chest.

As both stared at the each other, Eragon had expected himself to be at unease as he always was around Arya, but somehow he felt calm as he easily held her gaze. Maybe it was because his attention was focused solely on the spar or maybe it was because of yesterday's incident. At that thought Eragon shook his head, trying to dispel the memory before his face outshone the sun.

Thankfully, Arya assisted him in the task as she ran straight at him and jabbed at his right side, the unprotected one, because he had been busy being polite to his opponent. Eragon leaped back, his elven strength helping him put some distance between the two. But Arya kept up the momentum of the attack, her sword was already arcing towards his head as he landed. Quickly bringing up his left sword, _dwerva_ , he blocked the emerald blade while _kveykva_ raced towards the elf's unprotected left side. She rolled forward and came up behind Eragon's back delivering a kick that sent him hurtling in the direction he was facing.

Converting his fall into a roll Eragon looked up from his squatting position to see Arya walking towards him, her sword hanging at her side care freely. She stopped about 15 feet from Eragon as they both circled one another, eyes never breaking contact.

She twitched and he flinched.

Realizing he had stopped breathing, he forced himself to relax and understand his opponent's method of fighting- she relied on movement and agility to win while Eragon's own style was strikingly different, he preferred to outskill his opponent using his enhanced strength and reflexes. If he was a mountain then she was a river and eventually the river would weather him down- with that in mind he breathed deeply and rushed towards her, intent on ending this spar quickly.

This time, he let out the first strike, a diagonal cut with his right while the left sword went for the legs. Arya immediately back tracked, her emerald eyes dancing with the 2 blades. Seeing his opportunity Eragon let out a cry as _dwerva_ flashed towards her sword hand and would have skewered her wrist had the elf not brought her sword in its path.

Eragon immediately threw his right sword towards the ceiling- Arya's eyes trailing the purple blade upwards -which was a mistake on her part- as the next moment his fist collided with her ribcage which was followed by a kick at the same spot. He was rewarded with a pained grunt and a flick at his cheek as Tamerlein's tip feathered over his skin, Arya twirled away from him her eyes now sparkling with wariness as her hand hovered over her bruised ribs.

He mentally frowned; an ordinary human should have started bleeding internally and would have collapsed on impact but the gift of the elves kept them up as if it had been a breeze that hit them. Coming to the conclusion, he would have to hinder her agility as brute force would not keep her down; Eragon charged, resolved to not let her keep her distance.

* * *

An hour later, both of them stood panting covered with minor cuts and purple bruises. The latter was more in Eragon's case, he had discovered quickly- but still late- that Arya was excellent in hand to hand combat, something he couldn't afford because of his dual wielding style. The elf would use her sword and fist in sync, not to mention her legs, to gain any advantage she could and as a result he had lost _dwerva_ half an hour ago but the elf had payed a heavy price as she now wore a long cut carved along her left arm.

Even after the loss of his sword he had been hesitant to grapple or strike her; after all he was still a boy sparring with the most beautiful woman he knew to exist. That was until Lord Barst had roared at him to stop being a gentleman or else Eragon would have to spar with him next; spurred by the memories of several such mishappenings, he had started to fight earnestly.

It had turned bloody after that. Every strike was replied with a deadly counter, every maneuver was stopped before it began, and every drop of blood was bought with pain. Their dance had continued until Eragon had disarmed Arya but in turn the elf had snapped his right arm. After that neither had been able to gain the upper hand and both burned themselves out until they just stood, unmoving, on the verge of unconsciousness.

It was then Lord Barst had stopped the spar, naming it a draw, patted Eragon on the back- who had chosen the floor to be his chair- and exchanged a few hushed words with Arya as he left the room with its other two occupants healing themselves.

The next few moments were spent in uncomfortable silence as both healed themselves; Eragon was unsure what to say and even if he was supposed to talk as Arya's back was towards him. Another few minutes went by and he had just started on healing his broken arm that the sound of soft footfalls reached him, Arya's feet soon appeared in his view as she stood in front. He looked up to meet her forest-like eyes glittering with sunshine, "You fought well."

He managed a smile, "As did you, my Lady."

Her eyebrow arched elegantly at that, "I told you already Eragon, I am no Lady."

Upon hearing that, he immediately ducked his head.

She remembered!

This was excruciatingly embarrassing. He had hoped that the events of yesterday night would be forgotten for good but fate had to play its games with him.

' _Wait till I get my hands on that blue giant'_ Eragon thought venomously, as he now struggled to form a proper sentence, giving up on the fruitless endeavor- he nodded his understanding- thankful for not having healed his bleeding cheek.

A few minutes later, the pair walked through the hallways leaving hastily bowed guards in their wake. "How many times have you fought in battles outside the castle?" asked Arya without preamble.

"A few, but they were mostly skirmishes and Lord Barst was always looking over me." answered Eragon, not very pleased with his records in that particular area.

Arya gave her usual bird-like nod, "You have little experience in actual combat- which is in stark contrast to your skill with the blade. A teacher must be careful in his estimation of the student's potential."

And then Eragon gave the most mature response ever- he blushed. Irritated at himself for acting like a clown in her presence, he decided to remain silent and salvage whatever respect he could.

"And maybe that is why the king is intent on sending you to Belatona without Lord Barst to accompany you." Arya concluded as they reached her room.

"My Lady?!" Eragon exclaimed.

And on Arya's stare hastily corrected himself, "I don't understand, Arya." The word rolling off his tongue awkwardly without its usually accompanied prefix.

The corner of her lips turned upwards, "It means that the king wishes for you to lead an attack on Belatona." Her voice turning serious towards the end.

"The king wishes for you to meet him for Lunch. Accept the assignment only if you wish to Eragon." her eyes firmly holding his gaze. And with that, the elf entered her room, the wooden door closing behind her soundlessly.

* * *

It was not long before Eragon found himself sitting with the king for Lunch, while this was usual practice, the fact that Arya and Helen were not surrounding the table was uncommon. The lunch had begun the usual way, the king describing his day and Eragon in turn describing his before the talk took a serious turn.

"As I am sure Arya has told you, I wish for you to lead the siege on Belatona. Lord Barst thinks you are ready to command the men, as do I. It should be good for your overall development as well Eragon, a good general must be good with a blade but better with his men. What say you?" the king asked with a fatherly smile on his face.

Eragon put away his bread as he looked into the king's eyes, it was something he had been waiting for a long time. The chance to finally see the world outside of the castle, this wasn't some small skirmish that Lord Barst took him to understand how the flow of the battle worked; this was a complete siege on a complete fortress. It was his chance to finally look at the world and understand how it worked without his teachers chiming in.

And so he spoke, with a broad smile, "I will go my king. Is it the Varden?"

"Aye it is." The king sighed deeply. "They have killed some of the nobility and taken control of the city and as a result are disrupting our army's supplies through the Leona lake. I already have sent some 2000 men there but they are making little progress and I thought it would be good to see if you could take back Belatona. I am sending a troop of soldiers with you to assist you if something ill occurs in your journey. When do you wish to leave?"

"By nightfall. It will take minimum 4 days on horseback and I wish to reach Belatona as swiftly as I can. May I take your leave my king, I wish to prepare." Eragon bowed from his seat.

"Go Eragon, my best wishes are with you." The king chortled as Eragon all but raced out of the hall.

* * *

Eragon sighed with relief as the Imperial camp finally came into sight, it had taken the company 4 days to travel and he had been bored out of his mind during this dull journey. The camp appeared gray and indistinct with only the red and gold insignia flags conspicuously fluttering in the breeze. A mile to the North lay the city of Belatona, and he was able to make out only the most general features: glacier-white walls, yawning entryways containing barred gates, and many thickly built square stone towers. With a click of his tongue, Eragon urged his horse into a trot as the men too hastened towards the cluttered tents.

It didn't take long before he was seated inside the tent with Captain Brigman, the commanding officer he had replaced. He was a broad-shouldered man in a blue tunic with a naked sword at his side. He had a large, full beard, though his upper lip was shaved.

"You're Eragon?" he asked, his voice low and flat. The said man raised an eyebrow at this, a mere captain was referring to him without the expected prefix.

Giving no indication of his thoughts, Eragon merely smiled. "I am, Captain Brigman."

"We've been expecting you," he said. "One of the King's pet spellcasters contacted me four days ago and said you had departed, but I didn't think you would arrive so soon."

"It wasn't easy," said Eragon.

Brigman's bare upper lip curled. "No, I'm sure it wasn't … sir. The men are yours to command, _my lord_. We were about to launch an attack on the western gate. Perhaps you would care to lead the charge?" The question was as pointed as a dagger.

If possible Eragon's smile widened, "Not yet, Captain. Tell the men to stand down, I need to rest."

Brigman growled, "Have you lost your wits? How else do you expect us to capture the city? It took us all morning to prepare the attack, and I'm not going to sit here twiddling my thumbs while you catch up on your sleep. The king expects us to end the siege within a few days, and by Angvard, I'll see it done!"

At this Eragon laughed, "Brigman, are you sure you wish to insult the King's vassal? Perhaps you wish to manage the stables during this siege?"

Brigman seemed to struggle with himself. "Fine," he spat. "We'll stay where we are, if that's what you want, but I won't be held accountable for the waste of time. Be it on your head, not mine."

"As it always is," answered Eragon, dusting his clothes as he stood up. "Just as you're responsible for the mess you've made of this siege." Brigman's brow darkened, and Eragon saw the man's dislike of him curdle and turn to hate.

Eragon merely sighed as he walked out of the tent, the man was foolhardy and thought little of him, if he had his way he would lead them all into a suicidal attack. He wondered why the King had chosen this old fool to lead the siege on Belatona, he was but a mere Captain, only fit for raids and the like.

With a yawn he eyed the rising sun, calculating how much time remained until noon.

"Let us take a walk, Captain and bring your strategist along." he said.

Soon the pair was joined by a thin, reedy looking man with a scruffy brown beard wearing the Empire's standard uniform for officers.

Starting from the center of the camp, Eragon led his companions up and down each row of tents, inspecting the condition of the troops as well as the state of their equipment. Occasionally, he stopped to question a warrior before moving on. For the most part, the men were tired and disheartened, although he noticed their mood seemed to improve when they caught sight of him.

Eragon's tour ended at the Northern edge of the camp, as he had planned. There he and the other two stopped to gaze at the imposing edifice that was Belatona.

The city had been built in two tiers. The first was low and spread out and contained the majority of buildings, while the second, smaller tier occupied the top of a long, gentle rise, which was the tallest point for miles around. A wall encircled both levels of the city. Five gates were visible within the outer wall: two of them opened to roads that entered the city—one from the north and one from the east—and the other three sat astride canals that flowed northward, into the city.

On the other side of Belatona lay the Leona lake, where the canals presumably emptied. The south-facing gate was scratched and scarred from a battering ram, and the ground in front of it was torn up with what Eragon recognized as the tracks of battle.

Six catapults, four ballistae and two ramshackle siege towers were arrayed before the outer wall. A handful of men hunkered next to the machines of war, smoking pipes and playing dice on patches of leather. The machines appeared pitifully inadequate compared with the monolithic mass of the city.

The low, flat land surrounding Belatona sloped downward toward the Lake. Hundreds of farms dotted the green plain, each marked by a wooden fence and at least one thatched hut. Sumptuous estates stood here and there: sprawling stone manors protected by their own high walls and, Eragon assumed, by their own guards. No doubt they belonged to the nobles of Belatona, and perhaps certain well-off merchants.

Without looking at him, Eragon said to Brigman, "Tell me about Belatona."

The man replied "The Varden had foresight; they saw to it that the city was fully stocked with food before we cut off the roads between here and the rest of the Empire. Water, as you can see, they have no shortage of. Even if we diverted the canals, they would still have several springs and wells inside the city. They could conceivably hold out until winter, if not longer, although I'd wager they'd be right sick of eating turnips before all was said and done. Also, they have garrisoned Belatona with some 5000 men."

Eragon couldn't contain his shock this time, they were outnumbered and outmatched in every sphere of the siege. He asked "How do you know this?"

"An informant. However, he had no experience with military strategy, and he provided us with an overly confident assessment of Belatona's weaknesses. He also promised us that he would be able to let a small force of men into the city under the cover of dark."

"And?"

"We waited, but he never appeared, and we saw his head mounted over the parapet the following morning. It's still there, by the eastern gate."

"And what are the gates made of?" asked Eragon.

"Iron and oak. They'll stand for hundreds of years unless we knock them down."

"Are they protected by any spells?"

"They are, we lost quite a number of men."

"Mmh. And what of the walls?"

Brigman shifted his weight. "Granite, polished smooth and fit so closely together, you can't even slide a knife blade between the blocks. Dwarf work, I'd guess, from before the fall of the Riders. I'd also guess that the walls are filled with packed rubble, but I can't say for sure, since we haven't cracked the outer sheathing yet. They extend at least twelve feet below ground and probably more, which means we can't tunnel under them or weaken them with sapping."

Eragon nodded in turn, "Let's attack tomorrow then, Captain."

The strategist widened his eyes at this, "My Lord, have you already formed a plan?"

Eragon shrugged, "Of sorts. Come, let us talk to the Varden now."

* * *

Eragon shifted in his saddle as he and Brigman stood in front of the gate of Belatona, the white flag of truce held limply in his Captain's hand. All eyes, and arrows, were trained upon the pair as they waited for the Varden's commander to appear through the gates.

Patiently waiting for the man, Eragon allowed his eyes to roam freely, taking in everything he could from the walls and the men. He had so far noticed 15 runes on the gate itself, meant to defend against people foolish enough to ram it, the men looked well rested and alert, their gazes flickering between the pair and their camp.

His observation was interrupted by the gate opening slightly, allowing 2 men on horsebacks to approach him at a gallop. They jerked to a halt in front of him, "What do you want, Galbatorix's pet?" demanded who Eragon presumed to be the commander.

With a mocking smile fixed on his face, Eragon bowed low from horseback "The name is Eragon, my lord and the King wishes for you to leave the good city of Belatona with your companions, he promises you safe passage to the Beors on the condition that you stop terrorizing these unfortunate souls." said Eragon, gesturing towards the city.

The man in turn laughed raucously, "You and your _king_ have got some nerve, boy. The varden are the saviors, fortune has finally smiled upon these _unfortunate_ souls. Though I wish I could say the same for you laddie. You're still young, I bet you'll throw your insides out at the first sight of blood, so why don't you and your fellow pets leave us to our duty and go live your lives for a few more years."

Eragon let out a dramatic sigh, "Only if I could, my lord. It is terribly unfortunate that our paths have crossed, though I assure you it will not occur again. Since you come across as a wise man, why don't we, that is _you and I_ , fight for this city. Why use a sword, when a needle can do the job? It will be a sin to spill so much blood, particularly when the future demands more."

The commander in turn clapped his hands together, "Oho so is this the cowardice that the false king teaches to his pets? I knew you were a schemer the moment I set my eyes on you boy, why should I wager the lives of 5000 men over a single duel? Why should I wager this city over a single duel? Why should I wager the future over a single duel? I know your men are tired and have lost hope and if you have half the brain they do, you will realize this too- the city is impenetrable, we have outnumbered you, we have the weapons, we have the food and we have the time. Accept it boy, you have lost before you can even swing a sword. Go back to the madman whom you call king and live a few more years."

Eragon laughed at the insults thrown at him, this fool had no idea what he was getting into "My lord it is you who is a coward. If you are so afraid of losing to a _boy_ , I promise not to kill you, if that still continues to make you uneasy, I shall allow an entire troop of your soldiers into the duel, and if this too frightens you, I am willing to fight bare handed. But do not hide behind your wall of empty lies in an attempt to protect your honor my lord, it is unbecoming of a man of your status."

Raising his voice, he said "Yes, we maybe be fewer in number but our hearts are larger than yours. Is this the famed Varden? The self proclaimed protectors of Alagaesia and her people? Why you are nothing but a bunch of milksops, hiding behind your high walls hoping to wait out the storm. Is this what your beloved Ajihad has taught you? To hide like rabbits when the wolf stalks you? I was sent here to fight, but it seems that the King forgot that you lot are nothing more than beggars that now hold swords instead of bowls and display your _prowess_ only to unarmed women and childr-"

He was cut off by a faint whizzing sound and Eragon immediately brought out his hand to catch the shaft of a quivering arrow. Instantly the Varden's 2 men drew their swords anticipating a reply from his side. The Varden were at fault and they knew it, some foolish archer had broken the ethics of a truce meeting and this would only tarnish their questionable reputation if the word spread.

Eragon however was unfazed and chortled at the feeble attempt at his life, "And you continue to prove my point, oh great men. If you are even a sliver of what you claim to be, meet my army in a fair battle tomorrow morn and then you may return to your wives and mothers victorious or you meet your creator defeated. Let us not waste time hiding and hunting, I am a busy man and I have places to be, either you meet us tomorrow in the battlefield with honor or we will hunt you down like deer."

Without waiting for the indignant reply that was on the edge of the Commander's mouth, Eragon threw down the arrow held in his hand and turned his stead, briskly trotting towards their camp.

"That was a week attempt at angering them, and not entirely wise." said Brigman, his eyes and tone calm as he stared at Eragon's carefree form, it was now evening and the Captain thought that his commanding officer needed to hear what was inside his head.

The man looked up from the scroll he was reading and shrugged, "It was sufficient. That is all that matters."

"Sufficient? For what? Our slaughter? The only reason we still breath is because they are still too wary to attack, they are too patient to risk a head on confrontation. In an open battle, there will be carnage and according to my calculations we won't be blessed with more than 3 hours of survival. Let us hope they don't accept your ludicrous invitation and mount our heads along with yours by the parapet." said Brigman, his shoulders heaving with ill-hidden rage.

"I do know that our chances at winning are nil against an army that has twice the numbers we do, but _my_ chances of victory against this army are high. Victory is assured if they and I meet tomorrow in the open field." Said Eragon amusedly, as Brigman's face was an open display of various emotions, none of them flattering.

"You are proposing to single handedly defeat 5000 men?" his tone suggesting that Eragon was senile to even have such a notion.

"I am proposing to single handedly _kill_ 5000 men tomorrow morn, but I need you and your men to be fully armored and battle-ready, in case lady luck doesn't bless us with what I desire." Stated Eragon, his eyes fully locked with the captain, the fire flickering- casting shadows on Eragon's face.

" And what are we supposed to do while you _try and fight_ 5000 men?" asked Brigman.

"Whatever you wish to, Captain. Just be alert enough to not get killed by the men I wouldn't be able to engage. And all of you are forbidden from entering the fray, I wish to do this alone." Said Eragon.

Brigman scoffed, "If you are so sure of winning, why don't you let us help you? That way the battle will end quicker."

Eragon chuckled, "I like to give excellent results, Captain. This is my first ever assignment and I wish for zero casualties, that will make my teacher proud."

"And pray tell, who is this teacher of yours? Whom do you intend to please by attempting suicide?" asked Brigman.

"Lord Barst."

Eragon finally laughed out aloud at the stupefied face of his Captain; his face leaning forward, finally out of the shadows, his hazel orbs glinting with what Brigman could only describe as crazed excitement.

* * *

 **A/N: Hellooooooooo! How have you guys been? It has been a long time, hasn't it? lol**

 **My sincerest apologies for this super late update, but here it is! I haven't written anything for the past 4-5 months hence I am rusty so do let me know where I need to polish my writing :)**

 **I won't be answering any reviews since there aren't that many pertaining to the story. btw, thank you all for such support xD I have finally settled into the med school life (kinda) and will be making regular, monthly updates.**

 **Also, probably all of you are excited for "The Fork, The Witch, and The Worm" (kinda seems familiar, lol. Narnia anyone?) I have pre-ordered it, can't wait for Angela's story!**

 **That will be all for now, please do review, I haven't had those in quite a while :p**


	11. Guess who's back?

HI AGAIN! I am back, again. Lol i know i keep disappearing but I do always come back :p

Well, for those who know of my excuse. I finished my first year as a med student!

I am currently on a vacation and thus have returned to this story. Hopefully i will be able to stay. Who knows?

Well i did keep checking up on this storyand your reviews. So i decided to answer your reviews and then post a new chapter (it's work in progress but should be finish up in 3-4 days)

* * *

 **Haldir639 : Interesting to see that the ball is rolling, and that the Varden are a much more immediate threat to the Empire. I'm looking forward to see where this leads.**

Haha well the next chapter is gonna be up soon. stay tuned!

 **AsianS3n5ation: This is damn good! Keep up the great work! Glad you're back!**

Thanks man! I am back again lol

 **Mad hatter : Welcome back! So happy that you decided to keep this story going. I can't wait to see what happens in Eragon's first major battle, but I hope it's not too easy for him. Taking on 5k soldiers by himself with no dragon at his side would almost be impossible so it's going to be awesome to see what you have planned.**

 **On another note I liked the fact that you gave Eragon confidence in front of others and not afraid to stick up for himself, but shows his true inexperience when interacting with Arya. I'm interested to see how you build Eragon's relationship with Arya moving forward. At this point they're so distant and I'm really curious how you're going to bring them together. Keep up the good work and hopefully you don't wait too long to write the next chapter.**

Really sorry for the long wait Mad Hatter xD Eragon's first major battle is gonna be interesting to say the least, and it is a major point in the entire plot and character building. You'll see soon enough :p As for AryaxEragon it's gonna take some time because i wanna develop eragon first as a person and then explore the romance. It will take atleast 5 chapters, i think.

Until then, keep reading and keep reviewing!

 **SilverStorm5:Wait what? Angela's story?**

yeah! there's a bunch of short stories in the book i mentioned. Angela's will be pretty interesting i guess.

 **FirstThaumaturgy: Well this reminds me of the city Rorran had to siege in the books.**

I did take inspiration from that chapter xD

 **D4ni3l: I don't know if I appreciate where the story is heading. an arrogant, overpowered and always right eragon is not really a entertaining character. I hope that the varden and galbatorix will not be black and white and that eragon will never be able to defeat5000 men alone or he needs do pay a really high price if he does it.**  
 **an entertaining story needs developing characters and if eragon is in his first battle stronger and wiser than 5000 varden with an old leader that won't do any good.**

I understand your concerns but you have yet to read the upcoming chapters lol. Arrogant eragon is a part of the development and overpowered doesn't mean boring, i mean there are several examples where OP characters to make interesting stories (one punch man, anyone?) but that is not to say eragon won't have challenging fights in this fanfiction. Eragon may be stronger than most but strength doesn't mean wisdom :) Keep reading to find out more!

 **ShadowSlayer: I'm glad to see you still around. Chapter was good as always and i'm very excited for the next one! ;)**

Thanks a lot! I am back again and will hopefully stay lol.

 **Billy the Kid 730: Okay, so I've only just found this story and I love it! Really good and intriguing plot as well as well written. I must say though (sir or Madame?), you have good taste when it comes to inspiration for your writing. I think I identify "GoT", "Harry Potter" and "Deprived" lines... no? Looking forward to your next update (please be soon!), but till then just a quick question; how does Durza fit into this?**

hey billy! thanks for the compliment man. GoT theme is probably because of the medieval setting and the dragons lol. I did take a lot of inspiration from "Deprived" tho. The Crimson Lord is insanely good at writing! Sorry for the late update lol. Next chapter is gonna come soon tho. As for Durza, does he _need_ to be a part of the story? ;)

I hope you did continue to read my story!

 **Eragon Snow:Welcome back! Thanks for the update - loved how awkward eragon was with Arya hahah. Well done! Looking forward to future updates - thanks for not giving it up!**

i appreciate your review, snow! haha glad you liked the tension between arya and eragon. Update coming soon xD

 **Guest: Great chapter, love what you write! Keep it up can't wait for the next chapter!**

Thanks for the support! Do keep dropping reviews!

 **Guest: Noooooo I wanted to see Eragon kick some Varden ass**

Lol next chapter!

 **Gohadric: Alright, You asked for a review, and a review you shall get.**

 **First of all, I have greatly enjoyed the story so far, right up until this chapter.**

 **For you see, I recently re-read the Inheritance Cycle, and I notices some striking similarities between this chapter, and the encounter between Roran Garrowson and a specific captain.**

 **Their encounter is ever so slightly similar to this chapter, by which of course I mean it looks like you simply copy-pasted from the book, and replaced all instances of Roran with Eragon. Whilst adding a few paragraphs of text.**

 **I do apologies if my review seems more scalding than required, but please don't do it again.**

 **Regards.**

Hi! I did take the specific chapter that you mentioned as inspiration for writing my own story and as you can see from the reviews others have noticed the similarities too. I did it to give a tribute to the original writing and obviously i didn't expect to get away with it as obviously the Inheritance cycle's fanbase is very active; especially with the limited content. The current part of the story is essential for Eragon's character development and the siege was taken as inspiration. I apologize if my writing came across as blatant plagiarism but it was just me paying homage to original piece.

I await your review.

 **Joda-Eragonsson: Any chance you will continue this. You can't just leave this on cliffhanger. I want to see how eragon is going to win against 5000 men**

hey! i shall be continuing with the story. As for Eragon winning, well you'll just have to wait for the next chapter.

 **H4D3S: Hope u will continue to update this story, it's really good so far.**

Thanks dude! Next chapter coming soon

 **Guest: Please continue! I love the story and the potential it has great job!**

Thanks for the review xD

* * *

Until the next update!


	12. Chapter 12

**DISCLAIMER: The only thing I own is my imagination.**

* * *

At the break of dawn, a figure stood alone- his army half a league behind. The man's dwarven armor glinted in the morning sun as he faced the imposing fortress of Belatona. His youthful face was calm, his arms crossed, his chin up and legs spread apart.

It wasn't long before a smile spread across his face- so the Varden did have some honor.

And some brains too it seemed.

Eragon estimated around 3000 men while the rest were just at the gates, ready to help should the tide of the battle change.

The horses neighed and the men stomped their boots at the ground, their shields banging with vigor and spears jutting up towards the skies as they fell into formation.

His eyes shone as he unsheathed his 2 blades, rolling their hilts into his preferred position.

There spread a murmur among both sides of the battlefield, the Varden in a dilemma if to charge or not at a lone man and the Imperial Army at their new commander's insanity.

Finally the Varden's commander ordered the charge and Eragon smirked- it was time.

Eragon rushed at the oncoming army, his swords at his sides – half a league separating the two colliding forces.

He glanced behind, pleased that his forces had followed his command and remained standing; ready to understand why he was the king's vassal.

Soon enough he was in range and arrows came flying at him, arching over the galloping cavalry, hoping to pin him to the ground and continue towards the imperial camp.

With a smirk he muttered, "letta du oro" followed by a "oro ganga" which stopped the arrows midair and sent them hurtling back at the charging cavalry.

They dropped like flies, the charge hindered by falling horses and men tumbling their way to death by stampeding feet.

Coming to a distance of a few hundred feet, Eragon came to a halt.

Firmly planting his feet into the hard ground he put up his swords, falling into his regular stance.

 **Another mission**

 **The powers have called me away**

 **Another time**

 **To carry the colors again**

 **My motivation**

 **An oath I've sworn to defend**

 **To win the honor**

 **Of coming back home again**

 **No explanation**

 **Will matter after we begin**

 **Unlock the dark destroyer that's buried in me**

 **My true vocation**

 **And now my unfortunate friend**

 **You will discover**

 **A war you're unable to win**

Eragon cut through them like paper, his swords dancing with deadly grace making quick work of the men in front of him. Horses crashed to the ground, their riders bashed with the flat of the blade, the foot soldiers just in the way- getting trampled by their own. He was a wall. The wall in way of the Varden's victory and he shall not break. It was humorous, funny in a tragic way that these men had surrounded him, with spears, swords, shields, horses and their very bodies.

And they still were no closer to touching him than they had been yesterday. All 3000 men, trying and failing, to kill a lone soldier. Nothing would work, it seemed, upon this devilish being. Arrows were deflected, swords cut through, spears crushed, their armor sliced through like butter. Even magic seemed to be useless against this creature.

 **I'll have you know**

 **That I've become**

 **Indestructible**

 **Determination that is incorruptible**

 **From the other side**

 **A terror to behold**

 **Annihilation will be unavoidable**

 **Every broken enemy will know**

 **That their opponent had to be invincible**

 **Take a last look around while you're alive**

 **I'm an indestructible master of war**

The Imperial army was staring at their own commander with unbridled terror. This wasn't an ordinary man. Hell, was he even a man? It had been an hour since the so called suicide run had begun and the man was still unscathed. Not a single evidence to show he had fought. Well unless you counted the blood he was bathed in. This monstrosity was wreaking pure havoc in the battlefield. Giving up on staying at a single spot, their commander had now taken to running through the army. Sprinting towards the very end of the formation, his two swords constantly weaving through the men, leaving a trail of corpses in his wake. Constant bombardments rocked the blood strewn battlefield, Eragon was constantly muttering under his breath. He cut through men where he was present, and he blasted apart them where he was absent.

 **Another reason**

 **Another cause for me to fight**

 **Another fuse uncovered**

 **Now, for me to light**

 **My dedication**

 **To all that I've sworn to protect**

 **I carry out my orders**

 **With not a regret**

 **A declaration**

 **Embedded deep under my skin**

 **A permanent reminder**

 **Of how we began**

 **No hesitation**

 **When I am commanding the strike**

 **You need to know**

 **That you're in for the fight of your life**

The Varden camp inside the fortress was hysterical.

The men were dead.

All 3000.

Killed by one man.

He stood in the exact middle of this corpse laden battlefield, blood all over his being. There was nothing right about this atrocity. He had slaughtered the men like a lion among sheep, and it had taken him mere 2 hours to do so. It was incomprehensible; how could a mere boy take out 3000 well rested fully grown men? Was this the power the mad king gave to his pets?

The boy had come at the army with his two swords and moved with such devastating power that the Varden fell away like a pile of leaves in a brutal storm. It was mind numbing to see the boy perform feats they could not even dream of, the raw force he had displayed was unholy and they knew; it was over.

Eragon grimaced. So it was finally over. Murmuring a spell to clean his swords and armor, he amplified his voice and bellowed at the fortress, "Varden! Now that we both have seen what the other is capable of, allow me to present you with one last _request_."

"Leave Belatona. Now.

This very moment.

I give you an hour to leave and you shall be granted safe passage till the Beors. I swear to respect your fallen comrades and shall burn them tonight; there will not be a feast for the crows. The king has decided to grant you filth this favor so accept it or else I will be coming for you next."

With that Eragon sheathed his glimmering swords and walked away.

* * *

Another hour later saw the Varden leaving Belatona in a single file, through the towering gates which had refused entry to the imperial army. Brigman sat on his stead next to Eragon as they both looked over the dispersing Varden; their heads hung low with tears shimmering down their cheeks, terrified to even look up at him as they quickly shuffled out of the citadel.

Eragon's face was impassive as he and his army proudly ushered the Varden out.

The deed had been done.

It was evening by the time his men had piled the bodies, Eragon turned to Brigman – the man had not left his side the entire day, "Captain, take all of your men inside the fortress. I shall honor the departed warriors and return by morning; I have a few errands to run. Until then, I leave the charge to you."

Without waiting for an affirmation he stalked towards the pile of bodies stacked in the middle of the battlefield while Brigman walked away in the opposite direction, calling for his men.

Eragon stood, facing the pile of bodies and waited till he heard the giant doors close with a thud. He whispered, "brisingr" and immediately the several piles lit up, the magical fire burning blue- leaving no smoke nor ash.

With shaky steps, he made his way to the tree line to his right, his cloak no longer billowing but clinging onto his drooped shoulders as the young vassal all but ran towards his peace. As soon as he broke through the foliage, he collapsed onto a smooth rock and hastily erected privacy wards before the tears could fall.

Yes. Eragon, the great warrior was crying.

Crying like he had never before.

And he cried into the night.

* * *

At the break of dawn, Brigman woke up to some very loud mutterings. Putting on a tunic he walked out of his well lit cabin, to see his guards frantically speaking among themselves.

Upon noticing his presence they immediately bowed heads and spoke in unison, "Lord Eragon has returned."

Brigman raised an eyebrow. "Where is he?"

"Downstairs, Captain."

Nodding, Brigman walked down the stairs- to halt half way down. Eragon, or at least what resembled the said man stood looking at him with an unreadable expression on his youthful face.

The boy's hair was _white_. Stark white with no strands resembling the previous warm brown hue. While they retained their length and messy texture, they were as white as fresh snow compared to the aged mahogany they had been.

"Magic?" asked Brigman, hesitation seeping into his voice, a shaky finger pointing at his own hair.

The boy shrugged, looking at the furniture "Not of my own doing."

* * *

Eragon rode into the Urubaen's citadel under the cloudy sky. It had been 3 days since he had left Belatona under the care of Captain Brigman, his work in the siege done.

Quickly walking through the gates of the castle, Eragon didn't bother to go to his room and change from his armor.

No, he had to report to the king first. Hurriedly climbing the stairs for the throne room, he came to a halt at the golden doors; flicking out the white strands off his face he impatiently motioned the wide-eyed guards to open the doorway.

Ah! He was in luck, The King as usual sat on his throne, his obsidian eyes fixed on Eragon while Lord Barst stood at his side, his face impassive as always.

With slow, purposeful steps Eragon walked towards the pair. On reaching the base of the stairs, he knelt low "My King, Lord Barst." inclining his lowered head at the respective men.

"Rise, child." commanded the king. He then motioned at the standing boy, "New hair?" asked the king with a teasing smile.

Eragon shook his head slightly, "It happened suddenly, my lord."

Galbatorix nodded, "Leave them be for now. I heard about your _battle_ Eragon. Just what I expected from my vassal. I presume you left those men alive for a reason?"

"I did my lord. It's better if the Varden hear about me from their own men. With so many men, rumors are sure to fly; amplifying our reputation."

The king chuckled deeply, "You did well, boy." said Lord Barst.

"Rest my child." The king motioned. With another bow, Eragon left the chamber.

Upon entering his room Eragon slowly removed his armor; setting the pieces properly as he pondered over everything that had occurred in Belatona. It had changed his perspective towards war and he now understood why the King had sent him to take charge of the situation. However, the outcome of this little scheme might not be to his liking Eragon thought as he smiled grimly.

He made his way to the bath, undressing along the way. He needed to contemplate.

 _He had killed 3000 men._

 _He had done so not on direct orders from the King._

 _This wasn't his first time killing men._

 _He had cried for them._

Eragon blinked as he dipped into the scented warm water.

 _Cried for strangers. No, cried for his enemies._

Eragon looked at his hands, water droplets running through them. He couldn't wash off the blood he had spilled. He knew that much.

He necessarily didn't want to kill. He killed so that his Helen wouldn't have to. If innocence must be sacrificed, better be his than anyone else's.

His mind had been clear regarding this filth long ago. He killed because he was a soldier. His orders were absolute.

He killed because he was a brother. His sister deserved to remain as burden free as was possible.

But now, he was lost in the maze of philosophies and ideologies. Meaningless luxuries which had no place on the battlefield.

 _Why did I cry? Did I cry for myself or did I cry for those men?_

Eragon sighed deeply as he washed his back.

He had cried with such despair. Why?

Because now he had finally matured. He now understood the cost of war. He had grieved for the loss of life, the loss of entire families. What he had done was so sickening that Eragon had been unable to stand and stare at the pile of corpses he had caused to appear.

He had felt so vile, when the battle had finally ended because a sudden realization had struck. These men had families. They too had sisters just like he did. And he was responsible for tearing them apart.

He had trembled as he cried that night. Alone in the night, just as the families of those fallen soldiers were.

He had committed a gruesome act, all because of his arrogance and his boyish foolhardiness to impress his teachers. It was all worthless, Eragon had come to realize. All the training, all the lessons, all the political discussions. It was all inconsequential if he couldn't broaden his mind. This wasn't his first time taking a life which wasn't his to take but this time he did realize the value it held. What he had done was superfluous to the extreme, he had let his judgment cloud and proceeded to murder 3000 men just because he wanted to show off his power like a boy boasted of his toys.

Eragon grabbed a towel as he stood up from his bath. Warm water running down in small streams as he dried his hair and face before finally wrapping the towel round his waist.

He had cried because reality had finally caught up to him. He had cried because he finally understood himself, and his position in this world.

He had shed his old skin and dawned a new one. The Eragon that had left this castle and the Eragon that had entered it were like the sunset and the sunrise.

He wore a white tunic with blue dyed leggings and tried to tame his now snowy hair. It was time he saw Master Cognitius.

* * *

 **A/N: Hi everyone! I know my disappearing act continues :P**

 **Very sorry for that but I did manage to roll out a new chapter this new year xD**

 **Please review, this is the first battle scene i have ever written. Do let me know what you think about it.**

 **Sorry if this chapter is shorter than the rest but I wrote this on a whim. Will try and make content regular.**

 **Share this story among your friends, reviews are directly proportional to my will to write lol**

The song that I have used in the battle scene is _"INDESTRUCTIBLE" by DISTURBED_


	13. Chapter 13

**DISCLAIMER: The only thing I own is my imagination.**

* * *

The library's brown door opened before Eragon could knock.

Magister Cognitios stood behind, bent slightly forward wearing robes of deepest black and his usual amiable smile. The student bowed deeply murmuring a greeting and the duo moved inside towards the private study cabins with companionable silence.

The library looked the same as always, imposing. Shelves ran along on both sides, stretching across the entire length of the wall and reaching towards the ceiling, the books were lined neatly with their spines facing out and the marble floor barely made no sound as they walked upon it. The library had several sections but the bones of its architecture remained the same, white marble floor contrasted with brown shelves and desks and light provided by ceiling lanterns or man sized glass windows.

Once seated in the warm cabin with a round mahogany desk in between the two, Magister Cognitios chuckled softly, "So you finally decided to match my hair." indicating at his own winter white head. Eragon smiled grimly at his teacher, his hands calmly placed upon his lap with his calloused palms facing down.

Looking carefully at his teacher's lined face, the wrinkles were even more prominent in the warm orange glow of the lantern, Eragon spoke slowly holding the wise man's gaze "Fate's hand."

The usually bright eyes turned morose, "Perhaps. Perhaps not."

Rubbing his frail hands together Magister Cognitios spoke "Since you have come looking for me child, I will not hesitate to impart you today's lesson as well. Fate is like the strange, unpopular bar filled with odd little waiters who bring you things you never asked for and don't always like. But as any polite customer would, we can do nothing but accept them."

Eragon nodded solemnly "I know what you speak of Master, but why must I endure everything fate throws at me?"

"Because my child, no one saves us but ourselves. No one can and no one may. We ourselves must walk the path."

"Because my child, you spin your own yarn of fate and you solely are responsible for where it takes you."

Eragon blinked before hesitatingly speaking "That doesn't make any sense, Master."

Magister Cognitios chuckled, "Of course it doesn't you fool. Fate, Destiny, What is written in the Stars, God's will, Meant to be. All these are what wise men fear above all. For the wise men know not if these exist."

He breathed in deeply "Maybe you were an instrument of fate meant to do away with those men. Maybe those men were instruments of fate meant to transform you. Maybe it was fate that Helen touched her dragon's egg. Maybe it was fate that we met.

Or perhaps it was just The King's doing. Perhaps Helen's own heart was responsible for Saphira to break her egg. Perhaps those men died and you chose to see their deaths as your fault. Perhaps it was just your will that made you kill those men."

The teacher let silence prevail for a moment, letting his pupil absorb what all had been said. "Does fate exist? Alas, I do not know Eragon. But your choices and yours only, lead you to your final destination."

Smilingly, Magister Cognitios gripped his favorite albeit confused student's arm. "All will be well Eragon; you have started to see the world for what it is."

With a wink, the old man moved out of the cabin into the sunlight.

* * *

Eragon was just leaving Helen's room after having talked to her for over an hour, the blonde girl had chatted merrily about everything under the sun quite oblivious to her brother's hidden melancholy.

As he stepped out and was closing the door behind him, the room next to Helen's opened silently and out stepped the neighbor, Arya. Not in the right mood to talk or engage in complex pleasantries of the elves, Eragon merely bowed in her direction and turned to walk away from the gallery.

"Eragon." her accented voice carried over the corridor, making his deceitful feet turn towards her before he could even come to a halt.

 **"Atra esterní ono thelduin."** _May good fortune rule over you._ He recited mechanically not bothering to establish eye contact.

 **"Atra du evarínya ono varda."** _May the stars watch over you._ Came the reply.

 **"Mor'ranr lifa unin hjarta onr."** _May peace live in your heart._ He finished.

The elf spoke immediately "Come walk with me."

Taken aback by the abruptness of it all Eragon stood dumb, his vast intellect unable to process the elf's mercurial change in behavior. Was everything well? Arya walked past leaving him no choice but to snap out of his revery and follow in her wake as she led him to an archway of sorts designed with beautiful metalwork. Some green ceramic vines dotted with red berries grew around the arch, from which hung a wooden inscription-

' _Among my friends of root and wand, amid each green leaf and delicate petal, there are the dancing birds and the squirrels that dart. It is as if the song, the scurries and the subtle movements of flora are their voice, the song of the garden is for those who listen with more than their ears.'_

"How are you feeling?" she asked as they leisurely walked on a path made of smooth white stones. These were the gardens just below his room and were surprisingly empty at high noon.

Eragon looked at his companion out of the corner of his eye wondering what had caused this quantum leap in her nature. Elves were remembered as the most sophisticated of species in all of Alagaesia, taking years and sometimes even decades of dancing around to finally say what was going on inside their multi-faceted brains. Arya mostly stuck to that notion. Hearing a personal enquiry leave her mouth bordered on nigh impossible but the kind of bluntness she displayed today rivaled that of Lord Barst's himself.

Secretly worried this could be a repeat performance of that scandalous night he replied,

"Not well. The world refuses to reveal its workings to me and recent incidents have left me even more befuddled than before." He hesitated, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly "I have bathed in blood just for the sake of pride and now I have earned nothing but a gaping hole in my soul which can not be filled by my guilt alone." He was looking down at his feet; his white hair in full show, falling over his eyes.

Eragon was an excellent liar. Having had so many lessons with King and Magister Cognitios had taught him several things needed to be skilled at deceit. It was just stage acting and mental fortitude combined, and he was particularly gifted at these. It wasn't the most virtuous of skill but was helpful nonetheless and had served to make him escape unpleasant questions prying into business that wasn't theirs.

"You don't need to lie to me" Arya said matter-of-factly making Eragon break his stride, stopping him comically. "You can merely ignore the question if you don't want to answer it but do not tell me things which you assume will appease me."

The boy took in a long breath, held it for a moment and then released it slowly. So she was in complete control of her senses " My apologies, _Arya_. I feel better now. At first I was disoriented but now I have come to terms with it." His short, truthful reply came.

Arya simply nodded.

After they had walked for a quarter of an hour in utter silence, Eragon's hands fidgeted uncomfortably "Is there anything else you wished to talk about?"

The she-elf gave him a long glance "What did the king have to say about this?" gesturing towards his hair.

Eragon shrugged nonchalantly and Arya nodded her understanding. She looked up at the sun, stopped and stated she had some premade appointments before walking off briskly, her straight hair moving side to side hypnotically.

The day passed surprisingly quickly and before he knew it Eragon was fast asleep.

The next morning he woke up early, and had just finished bathing when someone knocked at his door. Hastily shouting "Wait then" he padded furiously at himself with a towel before quickly wearing a loose fitting tunic and grey dyed pants. A messenger boy waited for him on the other side, handing him a folded letter; the boy bowed low and Eragon waved him away, closing the door quickly behind his back.

It was a letter from Lord Barst, there was no lesson scheduled for today and he was free to do whatever he wished to. Putting the letter underneath a heavy book place atop his polished desk, Eragon decided to go outside the castle and wander the streets of Urubaen. It had been a while since he had roamed the streets aimlessly and wished to relive the bittersweet memories of his childhood.

And so he walked along the streets, treading their entire lengths; looking for some remnant of his earlier days. Wagons and farmers' carts vied for space on the cobbled streets. Ambitious beggars were laying claim to the busiest corners of the market while shopkeepers hung out their shingles and threw wide their shutters. Eragon counted some 7 inns open for business and at least double the number of shops on a single street,

 **He rode through the streets of the city  
Down from his hill on high  
O' er the winds and the steps and the cobble  
He rode to woman's sigh**

His ears picked up the voice over idle chatter, moving briskly he turned a corner and came upon a ragged bard. The man's clothes at one time had been richly dyed but now were leeched of color and threadbare, hanging on his bony frame. He wore no boots and sported thick soles, the kind which develop from walking miles and miles on the roughest of land,

 **For she was his secret treasure  
She was his shame and his bliss  
And a chain and a keep are nothing  
Compared to a woman's kiss**

Only now did Eragon notice the lute which accompanied the man's voice. His tone was deep and sonorous while that of his lute was flitting and melodious. He sat upon some wooden crates singing a song of sorrow and heavy heart. He noticed me staring and sang louder allowing his voice to drift on the wind. I walked to him pulled by an invisible string of symphony that drifted from his lips.

 **For hands of gold are always cold  
But a woman's hands are warm  
For hands of gold are always cold  
But a woman's hands are warm**

 **And there he stood with sword in hand  
The last of Darry's ten**

 **And red the grass beneath his feet  
And red his banners bright  
And red the glow of setting sun  
That bathed him in its light  
Come on, come on the great lord called  
My sword is hungry still**

 **And with a cry of savage rage  
They swarmed across the rill  
And with a cry of savage rage  
They swarmed across the rill**

Eragon stood there transfixed, his eyes unblinkingly staring at the lute, the only audience of this bard.

 **He rode through the streets of the city  
Down from his hill on high  
O' er the winds and the steps and the cobble  
He rode to woman's sigh**

 **For she was his secret treasure  
She was his shame and his bliss  
And a chain and a keep are nothing  
Compared to a woman's kiss**

 **For hands of gold are always cold  
But a woman's hands are warm  
For hands of gold are always cold  
But a woman's hands are warm**

 **For hands of gold are always cold  
But a woman's hands are warm  
For hands of gold are always cold  
But a woman's hands are warm**

Eragon wiped a lone tear as the bard strummed the ending; the lute's last chord reverberating deep in his chest. The song had been irresistibly sweet, yet misery and grief was laced in the words. The melody purred to the soul, piercing through and engulfing his entire being from within.

Tossing a silver coin at the bard he walked ahead, the morning breeze playing with his hair and the music playing with his heart.

* * *

A/N: Hi you lovely people. Here's another chapter with a bit more advance in plot :)

Answer to your reviews:

 **Totem-Mimikyu** **: When I saw this was updated... Oh no oy. I surprise to be sure, but a welcome one. Loved it. Looking forward to more!**

hahaha glad i could pleasantly surprise you. Keep reading!

 **PhantomLemur3** **: Love the story. Can't wait to see how it develops.**

thanks a lot. Do review this chapter xD

 **Runereader of the Nightwings** **: Very glad the story continues! And the battle scene was very very well done! Great job!**

Thank you so much! It was my first and it took several attempts before I found the current one bearable. Do keep reading this story

 **Rogue-eL** **: I love the fight it was most interesting. Hope you update soon.**

thanks for reviewing :) Here's the new chapter. Hope you liked it

 **D4ni3l: I really liked your new chapter. At first I didn't liked the fightscene because I thought eragon was unnecessarily overpowered, but the writing was OK. In the end I liked the chapter because you portrait eragon as a actual human and I think not many fanfictions go this path. I'm thrilled to see how the relationship between eragon and Arya develops.**

Hi! Thanks for your lovely review. Eragon being overpowered is essential for this story's plot. I am glad you liked my characterization of Eragon, do let me know where and how I can improve my writing xD

 **Oracle of Hylia: Woah, that was awesome in a scary way. Eragon is a total savage. I could almost hear the epic battle music playing. It makes sense that he would have an internal struggle after killing those people, he has a strong conscience. Wonder what Helen and Arya will think of his change.**

hahaha glad you liked it. Yeah he is meant to show some growth in the upcoming chapters. Please continue reading this story!

 **Guest: Badass that is all I need to say.**  
 **But really this AU is one of my favs**

thanks! Glad my AU has got your attention

 **Hyperion26: Amazing, I love the fanfiction, this is by far one of my more favorite ones.**

thank you so much. It really means a lot!

 **HI: This was AMAZING!**  
 **U need to write another one.**

Well here it is ;p

 **Guest: Love the chapter, hope you update soon!**

Here's the update!

 **Guest: Liking the story so far! But i hope the white hair doesn't stick forever**

not to your liking?

 **Isdrin The Wanderer** **: Please continue this story! It has, among others, inspired me to write a fanfiction myself.**

Wow thanks! Best of luck for your fanfic, I will try to give it a read :)

 **Eclipse607: It is a really good battle scene, one of the better ones I have read. I really like how you portrayed Eragon, with a sudden realization of ... remorse? So much fun to read. I checked this bookmark by accident and was so surprised to find an update. Amazing work!**

Thanks! hahaha happy you did. do keep coming back for more!

 **Yourbiggestfan: I WANT MORE PLEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSE seriously u have a great story started don't abandon it I have read lots of fanfictions that had a great start but we're abandoned half way through don't do that or I hate u**

I'll try not to hahaha I try to get a new chapter out as soon as I get a break from my usual schedule. Thanks for reading!

* * *

Guys do keep reviewing the story, it really motivates me as a writer. I love nothing more than to read your reviews! If you can please do share this FanFic with your friends.

Until next time!

The song is from GoT called _"HANDS OF GOLD"_


End file.
